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/* 

















FIRST BASE FAULKNER 


BY THE SAME AUTHOR 

PITCHER POLLOCK 
CATCHER CRAIG 




Sensing a mix-up, Joe held the ball and raced for 
second base (Page 327) 


/ 

FIRST BASE FAULKNER 


By 


CHRISTY MATHEWSON 

I) 

AUTHOR OF “PITCHER POLLOCK,” “PITCHING IN A PINCH,” ETC. 


WITH ILLUSTRATIONS BY 
CHARLES M. RELYEA 



NEW YORK 

DODD, MEAD AND COMPANY 

PUBLISHERS 






Copyright, 1916, by 
DODD, MEAD AND COMPANY, Ino. 



APR 18 1916 


©CU427759 

rt_ 


CONTENTS 


CHAPTER 

I 

THE NEW HOME . 



PAGE 

3 

II 

JOE LOOKS FOR WORK 



16 

III 

AUNT SARAH IS SURPRISED 



28 

IV 

JOE FINDS A FRIEND 



45 

V 

HOCKEY AND JUST A TALK 



59 

VI 

JOE HAS AN IDEA . 



74 

VII 

PARTNERS 



86 

VIII 

MR. CHESTER YOUNG 



102 

IX 

IN THE BASEBALL CAGE . 



117 

X 

STRIKING A BALANCE 



130 

XI 

HANDSOME FRANK . 



138 

XII 

OUTDOOR PRACTICE 



151 

XIII 

THE FIRST GAME . 



161 

XIV 

A TRY-OUT AT FIRST 



178 

XV 

BUSTER DROPS OUT . 



190 

XVI 

FOLEY IS WORRIED . 



208 

XVII 

IN THE TWELFTH INNING 



221 

XVIII 

EMPTY BOXES 



233 

XIX 

JOE ACCEPTS A LOAN 



243 

XX 

PURSUIT 



258 

XXI 

ON THE WEST-BOUND 



265 

XXII 

THE AMATEUR DETECTIVE 



278 

XXIII 

“batter UP !” 



296 

XXIV 

BUNCHED HITS 



307 

XXV 

A DOUBLE UNASSISTED 


# 

317 




ft 





ft 


t 
















ILLUSTRATIONS 


Sensing a mix-up, Joe held the ball and raced 
for second base (Page 327) . . Frontispiece 

FACING 

PAGE 

Joe found himself still in the company of 
Strobe 54 

“He thinks he’s a pretty swell little dresser, 
Foley does” 214 

“What!” squealed Young. “You ain’t a — 
a ” 290 



FIRST BASE FAULKNER 















CHAPTER I 


THE NEW HOME 

“ Lucky’ ’ Faulkner arrived in Amesville, Ohio, 
shortly before seven o’clock of a cold morning in 
the first week of January. He wasn’t known as 
“ Lucky” then, and he certainly didn’t look espe- 
cially fortunate as he stepped from train to plat- 
form and blinked drowsily at this first sight of 
the strange city that was to be his new home. 
He had travelled nearly six hours in a day-coach, 
sleeping fitfully with his head on the arm of the 
car seat, and his clothes were creased, his hair 
rumpled and his face tired and pale under its 
coating of train dust. He wore a good-looking 
gray ulster and a cap to match, and carried a big 
valise whose sides bulged tremendously and 
which bore the inscription “ J. C. F.” in neat old 
English characters. 

On the platform he set the bag down, took a 
trunk-check from a pigskin purse and gazed in- 
quiringly about him. The passengers who had 
left the warmth of the cars had hurried to the 

restaurant to make the most of the ten minutes 

% 


4 


FIRST BASE FAULKNER 


allowed them for breakfast, and it was much too 
early in the day for loiterers. It was a boy of 
about his own age — which was sixteen — who, 
stopped in his mad career of dragging a mail- 
sack along the platform, supplied information. 

‘ ‘ Huh? Expressman? Sure! Around back. 
Ask for Gus Tenney.’ ’ 

Gus, a small, crabbed-looking negro, was load- 
ing a huge sample-trunk into a ramshackle dray 
when discovered. 

“I’ve got a trunk on this train,’ ’ said the new 
arrival. “Will you take it to Miss Teele’s, on 
Brewer Street, please? And how much will it 
be?” 

“Brewer Street? What’s the number, Boss?” 

‘ ‘ One-twenty-eight. ’ ’ 

“Fifty cents, Boss.” 

“I’ll give you a quarter. Can you get it there 
by eight?” 

“I can’t tote no trunk ’way up to Brewer Street 
for no quarter, Boss. You’ll have to get someone 
else to do it.” 

“All right. Is there anyone else around?” 

“Don’t see anyone, Boss. Reckon I’se the only 
one here.” 

“Will you take my trunk up there first and let 
me ride along with you?” 


FIRST BASE FAULKNER 5 

“I got to deliver this to the Commercial House 
first, Boss.’ ’ 

“How far is that from Brewer Street ?” 

“ ’Most a mile.” 

“And Brewer Street’s near the City Hall, isn’t 
it?” 

“Well, it ain’t so mighty far.” 

“And the Commercial House is near the City 
Hall, too, isn’t it?” 

“Look here, Boss,” said the negro peevishly, 
“maybe you-all knows my business better ’n I do 
and maybe you don’t. I got to deliver this trunk 
right away ’cause the gentleman’s waitin’ for it.” 

“All right. Don’t let me keep you, then.” 

“Well, you give me that check an’ I’ll get your 
trunk up just as soon as I can, Boss.” 

“No, I’ll wait for someone else. It isn’t worth 
more than a quarter.” 

The negro hesitated and muttered as he gave 
the sample-trunk a final shove. Then: “All 
right, Boss, I’ll do it. Seems like folks nowadays 
don’t want anyone to make a livin’, I ’clare to 
goodness it does!” 

“Will you get it there by eight?” 

“I’ll get it there in half an hour, Boss, if that 
old mare of mine keeps on her feet. It’s power- 
ful mean goin’ to-day, with so much snow.” 


6 


FIRST BASE FAULKNER 


The boy yielded his check, saw his trunk put on 
the dray, and, after getting directions from the 
negro, trudged across Railroad Avenue and 
turned eastward past the row of cheap stores and 
tenement houses that faced the tracks. There had 
been a good deal of snow since Christmas and it 
was still piled high between sidewalk and street. 
Overhead a gray morning sky threatened more, 
and there was a nip in the air that made the boy 
set his bag down before he had traversed a block 
and slip on a pair of woollen gloves. Behind him 
a door opened and an appealing odour of coffee 
and cooking was wafted out to him. As he took 
up his valise again he looked wistfully through 
the frost-framed window of the little eating-house 
and mentally counted up his change. Evidently 
the result prohibited refreshment, for he went on, 
the heavy valise dragging and bumping as he 
walked, and at last turned the corner and struck 
northward. Here, after a short distance, the 
buildings became comfortable homes, many of 
them surrounded by grounds of some extent. 
From chimneys the gray smoke was ascending in 
the frosty air and now and then the tantalising 
vision of a breakfast table met his sight. The 
sidewalks hereabouts had been cleaned of snow 
and walking was 'easier, something the boy was 


FIRST BASE FAULKNER 7 

heartily glad of since that valise was gaining in 
weight at every step. 

It was not, he was thinking as he trudged along, 
a very inspiriting morning on which to arrive in a 
strange place. Perhaps if the sun had been shin- 
ing Amesville would have seemed less gloomy and 
inhospitable to him, but as it was he found noth- 
ing to like about the city. On the contrary, he 
was convinced that it was far inferior in every 
way to Akron and that he would never care for 
it, no matter how long he stayed there. However, 
he forgot to take into consideration the fact that 
he was tired and hungry and cold, neglected to 
realise that almost any city, approached from 
its least attractive quarter and viewed in the dim 
light of a cloudy Winter morning, looks far from 
its best. 

He set his valise down at a corner, rubbed his 
chilled fingers, and went on once more with his 
burden in the other hand. He was wondering now 
what Aunt Sarah would prove to be like. He had 
never seen her to remember her, although his 
mother had tried to recall to his recollection an 
occasion when Aunt Sarah had visited them in 
Akron. But that had been when he was only four 
or five years old and his memory failed him. 
Aunt Sarah was not a real, bona-fide aunt, for 


8 FIRST BASE FAULKNER 

she was his mother’s half-sister. But she was 
the closest relative there was and when it had 
become necessary to break up the home in Akron 
it was Aunt Sarah who had written and offered 
to take them in. There would be practically no 
money left after his father’s affairs had been set- 
tled up and all the bills paid, and Mrs. Faulkner 
had been very glad to accept Aunt Sarah’s hos- 
pitality for her son. She herself had obtained, 
through the influence of a friend of her husband’s, 
the position of housekeeper in a hotel in Colum- 
bus. Since her son could not be with her she had 
decreed that he was to go to Amesville, finish his 
schooling there, and remain with Aunt Sarah until 
enough money had been saved to allow of the 
establishment of a new home. He had pleaded 
hard to be allowed to leave high school and find 
work in Columbus, but Mrs. Faulkner wouldn’t 
hear of it. 

“You may not realise it now, dear,” she had 
said, “but an education is something you must 
have if you are ever to amount to anything. And 
there’s just one time to get it, and that’s now. If 
you study hard you’ll be through high school next 
year. You’ll be eighteen, and that’s quite young 
enough to start earning a living. Meanwhile Aunt 
Sarah will give you a good home, dear. I shall 


FIRST BASE FAULKNER 


9 


pay her a little, as much as I can afford, so you 
needn’t feel that you are accepting charity. You 
must try to he nice to her, too. She — she doesn’t 
always show her best side, unless she’s changed 
since I saw her last, hut she’s as good as gold, 
for all her sharp tongue. And I want you to try 
and remember that, dear.” 

He recalled the words now and tried to banish 
the mental picture of Aunt Sarah which he had 
unconsciously drawn : a tall, thin, elderly maiden 
lady with sharp features and a sharper tongue, 
dressed in a gingham gown of no particular colour 
and wearing a shawl over her shoulders. But the 
preconceived vision wouldn’t be dispelled, and 
consequently, when a few minutes later, the door 
of the little yellow house with chocolate-coloured 
trimmings opened to his ring and Aunt Sarah 
confronted him, he was not a bit surprised. For 
she was, with the exception of gingham dress and 
shawl, so much like what he had imagined that it 
was quite as if he had known her for a long time. 

“This is Joseph?” she asked as he took off his 
cap on the threshold. “You’re late. I’ve been 
expecting you for a quarter of an hour and break- 
fast is stone-cold likely. Come in, please, and 
don’t keep the door open. Take your bag right 
upstairs. It’s the first room to the left. When 


10 


FIRST BASE FAULKNER 


you’ve washed, and dear knows you need it, come 
right down again. I dislike very much having 
folks late to their meals.” 

During this announcement, uttered levelly in 
a sharp voice, she shook hands rather limply, 
closed the door, pushed the rug straight again 
with the toe of a sensible boot and smoothed the 
front of her black merino gown. That black 
gown was the only thing that didn’t fit in 
with his picture of her and he rather resented it 
as, tugging his bag behind him, he went up the 
narrow, squeaky staircase. That colourless ging- 
ham he had mentally attired her in would, he 
thought, have been less depressing than the black 
merino. 

The room in which he found himself was small, 
but, in spite of the cheerless weather outside, 
bright and homelike. There were some surpris- 
ingly gay cretonne curtains at the two windows, 
the paper was blue-and-white in a neat pattern, 
the brass knobs of the single bed shone like globes 
of gold, and J oe noted with approval that the gas- 
light was convenient to the old-fashioned mahog- 
any, drop-front desk. On the table at the head of 
the bed were three books, disputing the small 
surface with a candlestick and a match-safe, and 
while he hurriedly prepared for breakfast he stole 


FIRST BASE FAULKNER 11 

time to examine the titles. “ Every Boy’s Handy 
Book,” he read, “ Self-Help,” “ Leather Stocking 
Tales.” He smiled as he turned away. On the 
walnut bureau — it had a marble slab and an oval 
mirror and a lidded box at each side — was a Bible. 
He made a quick toilet and returned downstairs. 
A pleasant fragrance of coffee guided him to the 
dining-room. Aunt Sarah was already in place 
and a large black cat was asleep on a chair be- 
tween the windows. 

“That will be your place,” said Miss Teele, 
indicating a chair across the table with a nod. 
“Ho you eat oatmeal?” 

“Yes, ma’am, thanks,” replied Joe as he set- 
tled himself and opened his napkin. Aunt Sarah 
helped him and passed the dish. A glass perco- 
lator was bubbling at her elbow and, after serv- 
ing the oatmeal, she extinguished the alcohol flame 
underneath and poured a generous and fragrant 
cup of coffee. Joe ate hungrily and finished his 
oatmeal in a trice. He would have liked more, but 
none was offered. Then an elderly, stoop-shoul- 
dered woman entered with a quick, curious 
glance at Joe from a pair of faded eyes and de- 
posited a platter of bacon and eggs before her 
mistress. 

“This is Mildred Faulkner’s boy, Amanda,” 


12 


FIRST BASE FAULKNER 


announced Miss Teele. “You may hand the 
coffee, please.” 

Amanda nodded silently in reply to Joe’s mur- 
mured “How do you do?” and quickly departed, 
to return a moment later with a toast-rack. Joe 
had never seen toast served that way before and 
was viewing it interestedly when Aunt Sarah, 
having served him with a generous helping of 
bacon and a fried egg, and tasted her coffee, re- 
marked : 

“You’ll find the food here plain but wholesome, 
Joseph. And I guess you’ll always get enough. 
If you don’t I want you to tell me. I don’t hold 
with skimping on food. How’s your mother?” 

“Quite well, thank you. She goes to Columbus 
today. ’ ’ 

Aunt Sarah sniffed. “Going to he a house- 
keeper at a hotel, she wrote me. A nice occupa- 
tion, I must say, for a Teele!” 

“There didn’t seem to he much else,” replied 
Joe. 

“She might have come to me. I offered her 
a home. But she always was dreadfully set and 
independent. Well, I hope she don’t regret it. 
How was it your father didn’t leave anything 
when he died?” 

“I don’t know, Aunt Sarah. We always 


FIRST BASE FAULKNER 


13 


thought there was plenty of money before. But 
there were a good many bills, and the paper 
hadn’t been paying very well for a year or two, 
and so ” 

“I told your mother when she was so set on 
marrying J ohn Faulkner that he ’d never be able 
to provide for her. I’m not surprised.” 

“But he did provide for my mother,” replied 
Joe indignantly. “We always had everything we 
wanted. ’ ’ 

“You haven’t got much now, have you? Giv- 
ing your folks all they want while you’re alive and 
leaving them without a cent when you die isn’t 
exactly my idea of providing.” Aunt Sarah 
sniffed again. “Not that I had anything against 
your father, though. I always liked him. What 
I saw of him, that is, which wasn’t much. He 
just wasn’t practical. Are you like him?” 

“Folks say I look like him,” said Joe 
coldly. He felt resentful of Aunt Sarah’s 
criticism. 

“So you do, but I guess you’ve got more spunk 
than he ever had. You’ll need it. When do you 
propose to start in school?” 

“As soon as I can. I thought I’d go and see the 
principal this morning.” 

“The sooner the better, I guess. Idleness 


14 FIRST BASE FAULKNER 

never gets a body anywhere. Will you have an- 
other egg?” 

“Yes, please.” 

“I’m glad you haven’t got a finicky appetite.” 
She added bacon to the egg and pushed the toast- 
rack nearer. “Will you have another cup of cof- 
fee?” Joe would and said so. It seemed to him 
that he would never get enough to eat, which, 
considering that he hadn’t had anything since 
six o’clock the night before wasn’t surprising. 
Aunt Sarah nibbled at a piece of toast and sipped 
her coffee and was silent. Joe felt that he ought 
to attempt conversation and presently said : 

“You have a very pleasant home, Aunt Sarah.” 

“I’m not complaining any,” was the brief re- 
sponse. 

A minute later he happened to look up and 
caught her gaze. He may have been mistaken, 
but it seemed to him that she was regarding his 
performance with knife and fork quite approv- 
ingly. When he had finished, Aunt Sarah said 
grace, which to Joe’s thinking was turning things 
around, and arose. 

“I suppose you brought a trunk with you?” 
she questioned. 

“Yes, ma’am, and it ought to be here. The ex- 
pressman said he would get it around by eight.” 


FIRST BASE FAULKNER 15 

‘ ‘ Like as not it was Gus Tenney,’ ’ said Aunt 
Sarah. “If it was it won’t get here until after- 
noon, I guess. He ’s the most worthless, shiftless 
negro in town.” But Aunt Sarah, for once, did 
the coloured gentleman an injustice, for even as 
she finished he backed his team up to the sidewalk. 
“You show him where to put it,” she instructed, 
“and tell him to be careful and not bump the 
walls. And don’t pay him a cent more than a 
quarter of a dollar, Joseph. Have you got any 
money?” 

“Yes, ma’am, thanks.” 

Aunt Sarah, who had begun to look around in 
a mildly distracted way for her purse, stopped 
and said “Hmph!” Then, “Well, don’t you give 
him more than a quarter, now!” 

Five minutes later Joe was unpacking his be- 
longings and whistling quite merrily. After all, 
things weren’t so bad, he reflected. Aunt Sarah 
was cross-grained beyond a doubt, but she gave 
a fellow plenty to eat ! 

“And good eats, too!” he murmured content- 
edly. 


CHAPTER n 


JOE LOOKS FOR WORK 

“ Joseph Faulkner ?” inquired Mr. Dennison, the 
high school principal. 

“Yes, sir.” 

“I’m very glad to meet you, Faulkner.” They 
shook hands and Mr. Dennison pulled a chair 
nearer the big, broad-topped desk. “Sit down, 
please. You wrote me a week or so ago from 
Akron, I believe, and enclosed a letter from your 
principal, Mr. Senter.” 

“Yes, sir.” 

“I have it here, I think.” Mr. Dennison 
searched for a moment in the file at his elbow 
and drew forth the two communications pinned 
together. He read Mr. Senter ’s letter again 
and nodded. 

“I see,” he murmured. “Now tell me some- 
thing about yourself, my boy. Your father has 
died recently?” 

“Yes, sir, in November.” 

“I’m very sorry. I think now I recall reading 
16 


FIRST BASE FAULKNER 17 

of his death in the paper. He was the editor of 
the Enterprise , I believe ?” 

“Yes, sir. He owned the paper, too. That is, 
most of it.” 

“Your mother is alive, I trust ?” 

“Yes, sir.” 

“And you have brothers and sisters?” 

“No, sir; there’s only me.” 

“I see. I rather expected your mother would 
call with you, Faulkner. It’s the customary 
thing. We rather like to meet the pupils’ parents 
and get in touch with them, so to speak. Possibly 
your mother, however, was not feeling well 
enough to accompany you this morning.” 

“She isn’t here, sir. She’s in Columbus. You 
see, father didn’t leave much money and so she — 
she took a position in Columbus and sent me here 
to live with an aunt, a Miss Teele, on Brewer 
Street. Mother wants me to finish high school. 
I thought I’d ought to go to work, but she 
wouldn’t let me.” 

“Dear, dear!” said Mr. Dennison sympatheti- 
cally. “Most unfortunate! Well, I think your 
mother is quite right, my boy. You’ll be better 
fitted to face the — er — the responsibilities of life 
if you have supplied yourself with an education. 
Hm ! Yes. Now, let me see. I gather from what 


18 


FIRST BASE FAULKNER 


your former principal writes that you have been 
a very steady, hard-working student. You like 
to study and learn, Faulkner ?” 

4 4 Yes, sir. That is, I like to study some things. 
And, of course, I want to learn. Mr. Senter said 
he thought there wouldn’t be any trouble about 
my getting into the junior class here, sir. I’ve 
only missed about seven weeks.” 

“I see.” Mr. Dennison thoughtfully folded the 
letters in his hands, observing Joe the while. 
What he saw prepossessed him in the bay’s favour. 
Joe was large for his age, sturdy without being 
heavy, and had the healthful colouring and clear 
eyes of a youth who had divided his time fairly 
between indoors and out. You wouldn’t have 
called him handsome, perhaps, for his nose wasn’t 
at all classic, being rather of the tip-tilted vari- 
ety, and his chin was a bit too square to meet the 
Greek standard of beauty. Perhaps it was the 
chin that had suggested spunk to Aunt Sarah. 
Anyhow, it suggested it to Mr. Dennison. In fact, 
the whole face spoke of eager courage, and the 
gray eyes looked out with a level directness that 
proclaimed honesty. For the rest, he had light- 
brown hair, so light that one hesitated at calling 
it brown, but had to for want of a better descrip- 
tion, a forehead that matched the chin in breadth 


FIRST BASE FAULKNER 19 

and gave the face a square look, and a mouth 
that, no matter how serious the rest of the coun- 
tenance was, seemed on the point of breaking into 
a smile. On the whole, summed up the principal, 
a healthy, honest, capable appearing boy, and one 
likely to be heard from. 

“Yes,” said Mr. Dennison after a moment’s 
silence, “yes, I think the junior class is where 
you belong. At least, we ’ll try you there. I don ’t 
want to set you back unless it’s quite necessary. 
You may have to work hard for a month or so 
to catch up, but I think you can do it. How old 
are you, Faulkner?” 

“Sixteen, sir, on the fourth of last August.” 
Other questions were asked and answered and 
the answers were entered on a filing card. Then : 

“Can you start in tomorrow?” asked the prin- 
cipal. 

“Yes, sir, I’d like to.” 

“Very well. Then in the morning report in 
Room D to Mr. Whalen. School takes in at eight- 
thirty. Here is a list of books and materials 
you’ll need, many of which you doubtless have 
already. Any books or stationery you need can 
be obtained at the outer office. Books may be 
purchased outright or rented, as you please. 
That’s all, I think. I hope you’ll like us here, 


20 


FIRST RASE FAULKNER 


Faulkner. You must get acquainted with the 
other hoys, you know, and then you 11 feel more 
at home. Come and see me in a day or two and 
tell me how you are getting on. And if there’s 
anything you want to know or if there ’s any help 
you need don’t hesitate to apply to Mr. Jonson, 
my assistant, or to me.” Mr. Dennison shook 
hands again and Joe, armed with the printed list 
of books and materials, expressed his thanks and 
passed out into the corridor. A gong had sounded 
a moment before and the stairways and halls 
were thronged with students. No one, however, 
paid any attention to Joe and he left the big 
building and walked across the town to Main 
Street and turned southward, his eyes busy as 
he went. 

The sky was still gray and Main Street was 
ankle-deep in yellow-brown slush, and Amesville 
did not, perhaps, look its best even yet. But the 
buildings, if not so fine as those of Akron, were 
solid and substantial for the most part, and the 
stores presented enticing windows and leavened 
the grayness with colour and brightness. It 
seemed, he decided, a busy, bustling little city — 
he had already ascertained that it boasted a pop- 
ulation of twenty-five thousand and the honor of 
being the county seat — and it didn’t require any 


FIRST BASE FAULKNER 21 

great effort of imagination to fancy himself back 
in Akron. 

Joe not only observed but he studied, and for 
a reason. To let you into a secret which he had 
so far confided to no one, Joe had no intention 
of allowing his mother to pay Aunt Sarah for his 
board and lodging for very long. He meant to 
find some sort of work that he could perform 
before and after school hours. What it was to 
be he did not yet know, although there was one 
job he expected to be able to secure if nothing 
more promising offered. He was fairly certain, 
although his mother had not taken him into her 
confidence to that extent, that hotel housekeepers 
did not receive munificent wages, and he realised 
that his mother, used to having practically every 
comfort money could buy, would find it hard 
enough to get on without having to send a part 
of her monthly salary to Aunt Sarah. 

The job that he felt pretty certain of obtaining 
was that of delivering newspapers. Joe was well 
enough acquainted with the newspaper business 
to know that it was always difficult for circulation 
managers to find boys enough to keep the routes 
covered. He had had some experience of the 
kind, for when he was in grammar school he had 
delivered the Enterprise all one Summer and part 


22 


FIRST BASE FAULKNER 


of a Winter, until, in fact, a chronic condition of 
wet feet caused his mother to interfere. His father 
had not at any time approved of the proceeding, 
for Mr. Faulkner had been a man of position in 
Akron and it had seemed to him that in carrying 
a newspaper route Joe was performing labor be- 
neath him and, perhaps, casting aspersions on the 
financial and social standing of Mr. John Faulk- 
ner. Joe had had to beg long for permission and 
his father had agreed with ill-grace. The fun 
had soon worn off, hut Joe had kept on with the 
work long after his chum, who had embarked 
in the enterprise with him, had given up. It 
didn’t bring in much money, and Joe didn’t need 
what it did bring, since his father was lavishly 
generous in the matter of pocket-money. It was 
principally the fact that his father had predicted 
that he would soon tire of it that kept him dog- 
gedly at it when the cold weather came. Getting 
up before light and tramping through snow and 
slush to toss twisted-up papers into doorways 
soon became the veriest drudgery to the fourteen- 
year-old boy, and only pride prevented him from 
crying quits. When, finally, wet boots and con- 
tinual sniffling caused his mother to put her foot 
down Joe was secretly very, very glad! 

But delivering newspapers wasn’t the work he 


FIRST BASE FAULKNER 


23 


wanted now, unless lie could find none other, and, 
as he went down Main Street just before noon, 
his eyes and mind were busy with possibilities. 
To find a position as a clerk was out of the ques- 
tion, since he wouldn’t be able to work during the 
busiest hours. Some labor that he might perform 
after school in the afternoon and during the even- 
ing was what he hoped to find. And so, as he 
passed a store or an office, he considered its pos- 
sibilities. He paused for several minutes in front 
of one of the big windows of Miller and Tappen ’s 
Department Store, but finally went on with a 
shake of his head. If it had been before instead 
of after the holidays he might have found employ- 
ment there as an extra hand in the wrapping or 
shipping department, but now they would more 
likely be turning help away than taking it on. A 
drug store on the corner engaged his attention 
next, and then a brilliantly red hardware store 
across the street, a hardware store that evidently 
did a large business in athletic goods if one was 
to judge by the attractive display in one broad 
window. But Joe couldn’t think of any position 
in one or the other that he could apply for. Fur- 
ther along, a handsome new twelve-story struc- 
ture was nearing completion, and he stopped 
awhile to watch operations. It was the only ‘ ‘ sky- 


24 


FIRST BASE FAULKNER 


scraper’ ’ in sight and consequently stuck up 
above the surrounding five- and six-story edi- 
fices like, to use Joe’s metaphor, a sore thumb! 
It was a fine-looking building, though, and he 
found himself feeling a civic pride in it, quite as 
though he was already a settled citizen of the 
town. Well, for that matter, he told himself, he 
guessed Amesville wasn’t such a bad place, after 
all, and if only he could find a job that would bring 
him in enough to pay Aunt Sarah for board and 
lodging 

But at that moment the noon whistle blew, a 
bell struck twelve somewhere and Joe turned back 
toward Brewer Street. Aunt Sarah had enjoined 
him to be back before half -past twelve, which was 
dinner time, and he recalled her assertion that 
she disliked having folks tardy at meals. So his 
search for employment must wait until later. 

His walking had made him hungry again and he 
viewed veal chops smothered with tomato sauce 
and the riced potatoes piled high in the blue dish 
and the lima beans beside it with vast approval. 
There was a generous plate of graham bread, too, 
and a pyramid of grape jelly that swayed every 
time Amanda crossed the floor. He satisfied Aunt 
Sarah’s curiosity as to the interview with the 
high school principal while satisfying his own 


FIRST BASE FAULKNER 


25 


appetite. Aunt Sarah said “Hmph!” and that 
she’d heard tell Mr. Dennison was a very com- 
petent principal. Thereupon she went into the 
past history of the Amesville High School and its 
heads, and Joe, diligently addressing himself to 
the viands, told himself that his Aunt Sarah 
seemed astonishingly well informed on the sub- 
ject. Later he discovered that Aunt Sarah was 
well informed on most subjects and that when it 
came to town news she was better than a paper ! 

“I had Amanda bake an apple pudding,” she 
informed him presently, when his appetite began 
to languish. “I guess boys usually like some- 
thing sweet to top off with. Do you eat apple 
pudding?” 

“Yes, Aunt. Most any kind of pudding. But 
don’t you — don’t you go to any trouble about me, 
please. I — I can eat whatever there is. I’ve got 
a fine old appetite.” 

“Hmph! Well, I guess you won’t go hungry 
here. Not that I intend to have things much dif- 
ferent from usual, though. I don’t hold with hu- 
mouring folks’ notions about food. Food is food, 
I say, so long’s it’s nourishing and decently 
cooked. Your mother, though, was always a great 
one for strange, outlandish dishes and I suppose 
you’ll miss ’em. Well, all I can say is plain food’s 


26 


FIRST BASE FAULKNER 


what I was brought up on and I’ve never seen 
anyone hurt none by eatin’ it. I’ve noticed that 
folks who like messed-up dishes generally have 
dyspepsia and are always doctoring themselves. 
Amanda, bring in the pudding.” 

Aunt Sarah seemed slightly surprised when, 
the apple pudding partaken of, Joe announced 
that he thought he’d go and have a look around 
town. ‘ 4 Well,” she said, “you’re old enough to 
look after yourself, I suppose, but for goodness’ 
sake, don’t go and get run over or anything! 
Main Street’s getting to be something awful, 
what with these automobiles and all. Seems like 
a body just has to take his life in his hands when 
he goes there nowadays. If those awful things 
don’t run you down they scare you to death, and 
if they can’t do any worse to you they spatter 
you with mud. Gracious sakes, I haven’t dared 
shop on the other side of Main Street for ’most a 
year!” 

Joe didn’t confide to her his real errand, just 
why he didn’t exactly know. Perhaps he had a 
dim notion that Aunt Sarah wouldn’t approve of 
his engaging in work that might keep him away 
from home at strange hours of the day or night. 
She watched his departure doubtfully from the 
front door and when he was almost to the corner 


FIRST BASE FAULKNER 


27 


of the next street called after him to go to Rice 
and Perry’s and get himself a pair of overshoes. 
“Tell Mr. Perry they’re to he charged to me, and 
see that he gives them to you big enough. If you 
don’t watch him he’ll fit you too snug and then 
they ’ll wear out right away ! ’ ’ 

Joe didn’t obey instructions, however. Some- 
how he wasn’t yet ready to become indebted to 
Aunt Sarah, and, besides, he didn’t need over- 
shoes to get around today. His boots were heavy- 
soled and as nearly waterproof as any “guaran- 
teed waterproof” boots ever are. During the 
afternoon he made several inquiries for work. A 
photographer declined his offer to do errands 
after three o’clock in the afternoon, a haber- 
dasher failed to discern the benefits to accrue — 
to him — from giving employment to the applicant, 
and four other merchants of different trades an- 
swered to similar effect. Just before dusk Joe 
sought the office of the Amesville Recorder . 


CHAPTER III 


AUNT SARAH IS SURPRISED 

The Recorder was an evening paper and came off 
the press at half-past three, and for that reason 
Joe had made it first choice over its morning 
rival, the Gazette , which was delivered in the early 
morning. Fortunately, he found the circulation 
manager still on duty when he reached the office, 
and although that gentleman, who wore a nervous, 
harassed look, scowled upon him fiercely at 
first, the scowl gradually faded as Joe stated his 
mission. Unknown to him, Joe had timed his 
application extremely well, since one of the car- 
riers had that very afternoon been given his dis- 
missal, and it didn’t take more than four minutes 
to secure what he was after. The route was not 
a long one and paid less than Joe wished it did, 
but the manager promised to give him something 
better if he proved satisfactory and the oppor- 
tunity occurred. Joe was supplied with a list of 
subscribers on Route 6, told to be on hand 
promptly next afternoon at three-thirty, and took 
himself away well satisfied. The work would 
28 


FIRST BASE FAULKNER 29 

bring him only three dollars a week, which was 
much less than he believed himself capable of earn- 
ing, but the route would take but two hours from 
the time he left the newspaper office and he would 
be through well before supper time. Besides, Joe 
had no intention of delivering papers very long. 
Sooner or later, he believed, a better chance would 
offer. Until then, though, Route 6, with its re- 
sultant three dollars a week, would be a heap 
better than nothing. 

He told Aunt Sarah about it at the supper table 
and Aunt Sarah, instead of expressing disap- 
proval, appeared much pleased. Only, she in- 
sisted, the work mustn’t be allowed to interfere 
with his studies. J oe assured her that it wouldn ’t, 
since he would have his evenings free. After sup- 
per he went upstairs, opened the mahogany desk 
and wrote a long letter to his mother. He tried 
to make it sound very brave and cheerful, but I 
don’t think Mrs. Faulkner had much difficulty in 
reading between the lines and reaching the con- 
clusion that Joe was a little bit homesick and 
lonely and that he missed her a lot. He told 
about his interview with Mr. Dennison and about 
the employment he had secured. 

“It pays only three dollars,” he wrote, “but 
it won’t take more than an hour and a half or 


30 


FIRST BASE FAULKNER 


two hours and I won’t have to work on Sunday 
because the Recorder doesn’t have any Sunday 
edition. I’m going to pay two and a half of it 
to Aunt Sarah every week and so you won’t have 
to send her very much, will you? I’d give it all 
to her, but I guess I’d better keep a half-dollar 
out for pocket-money. Then you won’t have to 
send me any money. After a while I’m going to 
get something to do that will pay me more and 
maybe then you won’t have to send Aunt Sarah 
a cent. Aunt Sarah looks like she would bite my 
head off if I brought any dirt into the house on 
my shoes and she talks mighty crusty, but I guess 
she’s a pretty good sort after all. She had 
Amanda cook me a bully apple pudding for dinner 
today. I’m pretty sure she did it on my account, 
because she didn’t touch it herself. Amanda is a 
funny old woman who does the cooking and so on. 
She ’s about sixty, I guess, and hasn ’t but three or 
four teeth and sort of mumbles when she talks. 
When I say anything to her she looks scared and 
beats it. 

“Mr. Dennison gave me a list of the books I 
have to have and I’ve got them all but one. I can 
rent that and it won’t cost much. I’ve still got 
nearly four dollars of what you gave me and you 
don’t need to send me any more. I guess I’m 


FIRST BASE FAULKNER 


31 


going to like this place very much when I get used 
to it. Aunt Sarah wanted me to get a pair of 
overshoes and charge them to her, but I didn’t 
like to, and besides my boots are all right without 
overshoes. Maybe I’ll get a new pair of rubbers 
some time. The ones I brought with me are sort 
of leaky. But I won’t need any other things like 
clothes or shoes or anything for almost a year, I 
guess, so you’re not to worry about me.” 

He spent all of an hour over that letter and 
used four sheets of Aunt Sarah’s old-fashioned 
blue-ruled paper, and when it was finished and 
ready for the mail his watch told him that the 
time was half-past nine. He was opening his door 
to go downstairs and say good-night to Aunt 
Sarah when he heard her coming up. 

“I hope you’ll have enough covers,” she said 
as she came to the doorway. “If you haven’t 
you’ll find another comfortable on the closet shelf. 
Breakfast’s at seven, but if you’re very sleepy 
tomorrow I guess it won’t matter much if you 
don’t come down right on time. Amanda can 
keep something hot for you. ’Twon’t hurt her a 
bit. I suppose you’ll be wanting a bath every 
morning, and I haven’t any objection to your 
having it, only remember the water’s metered 
and don’t let the plug slip out. It’s awful the 


32 


FIRST BASE FAULKNER 


way they charge for water nowadays ! First thing 
we know they’ll be putting the air on a meter, 
too, just as likely as not! Well, I hope you sleep 
well and get rested, Joseph. Good-night.” 

“ Good-night, Aunt Sarah.” Joe hadn’t had any 
intention of doing what he did then, but writing to 
his mother had left him a little bit lonesome, 
and — well, acting on the impulse of the moment, 
he kissed Aunt Sarah on the cheek! I fancy he 
was almost if not quite as surprised as Aunt 
Sarah when he had done it. That Aunt Sarah 
was surprised was very evident. Indeed, some- 
thing very like consternation was expressed on 
her countenance. 

“Hmph!” she snorted. “Hmph! Well, I de- 
clare!” 

Joe, embarrassed himself, drew back over the 
threshold, smiling uncertainly. Aunt Sarah, at 
a loss for further words, stared a moment, said 
5 1 Hmph!” again in more thoughtful accents and 
turned away. But when she had gone a few steps 
she paused. “I told Amanda to boil you a couple 
of eggs for breakfast,” she announced, “but 
maybe you don’t care for eggs. Some folks 
don’t.” 

“Indeed, I do. Thanks.” 

“Well, all right, then. I don’t hold with hu- 


FIRST BASE FAULKNER 33 

mouring folks with finicky appetites, but if there’s 
anything you’d rather have than the eggs ” 

“ There isn’t, really. The eggs will be fine!” 

‘ ‘ Humph ! Good-night. ’ ’ 

Aunt Sarah’s door closed softly down the hall 
and J oe smiled as he shut his own. 

“I don’t believe she minded it at all,” he mur- 
mured. “I guess — I guess she’s never had very 
many kisses!” 

His first day of school passed without special 
incident. Several fellows spoke to him at recess 
and satisfied their curiosity about the newcomer, 
but none of them appealed greatly to Joe and he 
made no effort to pursue the acquaintances. At 
half-past three he was on hand at the Recorder 
office, received his bundle of papers, slung them 
at his side by a strap which he had bought on the 
way from school, and started out. His route 
began nearly a mile from the newspaper building 
and it would have saved time if he had taken a 
car on Main Street. But to do that every day 
would cost him thirty cents, and thirty cents 
taken from three dollars leaves quite a hole ! So 
he tramped the distance instead. He had already 
studied his route on a map in a copy of the city 
directory and so had little difficulty. He did, 
however, manage to leave out a block and had to 


34 


FIRST BASE FAULKNER 


go back to it, but that wouldn’t happen the next 
time. The district was one well over on the west 
side of town and was inhabited for the most part 
by factory workers, although there were a few 
blocks of more prosperous patrons. As a general 
thing the sidewalks were ill paved and held pools 
of slush or water, and Joe’s “waterproof” boots 
belied their reputation by the time he had tossed 
the last of his papers on the final porch. But 
damp feet didn’t trouble him greatly and he 
made up his mind to change to a pair of slippers 
as soon as he got home. It was quite dark by the 
time he reached the little house in Brewer Street 
and Aunt Sarah had begun to be concerned, and 
when he entered the front door, she appeared 
quickly from the sitting-room. 

“I was beginning to think one of those auto- 
mobiles had got you, ’ ’ she said tartly. “It’s ’most 
six o’clock.” 

“I’m sorry to be so late,” replied Joe, “but 
it took longer today than it will the next time. I 
missed some houses and had to go back.” 

“Well, I suppose I don’t need to get anxious 

about you, but ” Aunt Sarah paused, her 

gaze on his feet. “Joseph Faulkner, look at your 
boots!” 

“Yes, they’re sort of damp, aren’t they!” 


FIRST RASE FAULKNER 


35 


“Sort of damp! Land sakes, they’re sopping 
wet! You go right upstairs this very minute and 
take them off and change your socks and dry your 
feet and — and don’t you dare come home tomor- 
row without those overshoes I told you to get 
yesterday! First thing I know you’ll he down 
with pneumonia ! Tramping around through the 
slush with nothing on but a pair of fancy 
shoes !” 

“They’re supposed to be waterproof, Aunt,” 
said Joe meekly. 

“Supposed to be! Maybe they are supposed 
to be, but they ain’t. Now, don’t stand there 
arguing, but do as I say, Joseph. I may not be 
your mother, but I guess I know wet shoes when 
I see them! And I don’t see why you didn’t get 
those overshoes like I told you to yesterday.” 

“I didn’t feel that I could afford them,” said 
Joe defensively, “and I didn’t just like to take 
them as a gift.” 

“Land sakes, you needn’t be so proud, Joseph 
Faulkner! I guess I’m your mother’s own half- 
sister, ain’t I? And if that doesn’t give me the 
right to buy a pair of overshoes for you — Hmph ! 
I never heard such foolishness. You take those 
wet shoes off directly and I’ll bring you up a cup 
of ginger-tea. Fine thing it would be to have 


36 FIRST BASE FAULKNER 

you sick on my hands the very first week you’re 

here!” 

Joe went up, smiling to himself, and obeyed 
directions. Only, when Aunt Sarah passed a 
steaming cup of ginger-tea in to him he didn’t 
play quite fair. He gave it a trial, to be sure, 
but he didn’t like it, and if Aunt Sarah had been 
listening she might have heard one of the guest 
room windows cautiously raised. Let us hope 
that the ginger-tea had no ill effects on Aunt 
Sarah’s shrubs! 

Damp feet did not affect Joe’s appetite, and, 
watching him eat, Aunt Sarah dared hope that he 
was not in for a serious illness ! 

By Saturday he had settled down into his new 
life. He was relieved to find that the few weeks 
away from school had not put him far behind 
and during that first week he proved to his own 
and Mr. Dennison’s satisfaction that he really 
belonged in the junior class. He found much to 
like about the school. For one thing, the building, 
which was fairly new, was quite a model school 
structure, with big, broad rooms lighted by an 
almost continuous row of high windows through 
which the sunlight fairly streamed. Sunlight in 
classrooms makes for cheerfulness, and cheerful- 
ness for better work, and better work for more 


FIRST BASE FAULKNER 


37 


cheerfulness! That, at least, was the way Joe 
summed it up. The fellows seemed an average 
lot, some nice, some rather objectionable, some 
neither one thing nor the other. The same was 
probably true also of the girls, but Joe, having 
no sisters of his own, was shy of girls and didn’t 
attempt to decide as to whether they were nice 
or otherwise. 

At home he and Aunt Sarah settled down into 
a very pleasant companionship. Although her 
voice remained as acid as ever, it was evident to 
Joe that she was prepared to be fond of him, and 
that, used as he was to affection, was sufficient to 
make him fond of her. She was sometimes fussily 
anxious about him, but she didn’t try to govern 
his movements, and that he appreciated. Aunt 
Sarah’s bark, he soon decided, was far worse 
than her bite. The newspaper route occupied his 
afternoons between school and supper — which 
was more like dinner, since he had only a light 
lunch in the middle of the day — and required no 
great effort. On Monday he collected two dollars 
and a half for the five days he had worked and 
handed the amount over to Aunt Sarah. His 
board and lodging was, he learned, to cost three 
dollars a week. 

“That,” said Aunt Sarah, “was the arrange- 


38 FIRST BASE FAULKNER 

ment your mother made. I told her she didn’t 
need to pay a cent unless she was set on it, but 
she wouldn’t let you come unless I’d take some 
money. So I reckoned that three dollars would 
be about right. I’ve never taken a boarder and 
I don’t pretend to know. If that seems too much, 
though, I’d like you to tell me.” 

“It doesn’t seem enough, Aunt,” replied Joe. 
“I’ll bet I eat more than three dollars’ worth of 
food, and that doesn’t leave anything for the 
room.” 

“I wasn’t calculating to charge for the room. 
The room’s there and it might as well be used. 
I just meant to charge for what you ate, Joseph, 
and I guess you won’t eat more’n three dollars’ 
worth of food a week.” 

But that was on Monday, and today was only 
Saturday, and Joe had a whole morning to dis- 
pose of as he liked. He had been given a fine new 
pair of skates Christmas before last and had 
learned at school that there was fair skating on 
the river and on one or two ponds around town. 
After breakfast he got his skating boots and 
skates out of his trunk and looked them over. 
The only thing missing was a new lacing, and so 
he went across to Main Street in search of the 
article. But the shoe store in which he had pur- 


FIRST BASE FAULKNER 


39 


chased the overshoes didn’t have a leather lacing 
suitable and sent him to Cummings and Wright’s, 
further down the street. This, he discovered, was 
the brilliantly-red hardware store he had noticed 
one day. One side of it was given over to athletic 
goods and when J oe entered two boys were in con- 
versation across a counter near the door. 

“You can’t get to work too early, Sam,” he 
heard one of them say as he drew near. “Start 
them going about the middle of February. Of 
course there isn’t a whole lot to be done in the 
cage, but you can get in a lot of batting practice, 
and your pitchers can find themselves, and ” 

He broke off and walked along behind the coun- 
ter to where J oe was standing. 4 ‘ Good morning, ’ ’ 
he said cheerfully. “Is there something you 
want?” 

He was a well-built chap of seventeen, with 
red-brown hair, very blue eyes and a smile that 
won Joe on the instant. 

“I want a lacing for this boot, or a pair of 
them, please. They told me at Rice and Perry’s 
that you kept them.” 

“We surely do, and you can have one or two, 
just as you say.” He turned away and pulled a 
box from the shelves. “There you are. Five 
cents apiece.” 


40 FIRST BASE FAULKNER 

“I’ll take just the one, I guess.’ ’ 

“All right. They say the skating’s best at 
Proctor’s Pond. Have you tried it?” 

“No, I haven’t. I was going down to the river, 
because I thought I could find that. Where is 
this pond, please?” 

“Take a Fair Grounds car at Myrtle Street. 
Or you can walk it in twenty minutes. You’ll find 
it better than the river, I guess. You’re a 
stranger here?” 

“I’ve been here just a few days.” 

“That so? I thought I’d seen you around 
somewhere.” He had taken one of the skating 
boots and, despite Joe’s protest, was replacing 
the broken lace with the new one. 4 4 1 know now ; 
I saw you at high school, didn’t I?” 

“I guess so. I started there Tuesday. I — I’ve 
been living in Akron.” 

4 4 Akron’s a nice town. You’ll like Amesville, 
though, when you get acquainted. Have you met 
many fellows at school yet?” 

“N-no, I haven’t. That is, some have spoken 
to me, but I don’t really know anyone yet.” 

4 4 You must, then. Start in by knowing me. 
My name’s Pollock.” He smiled winningly and 
reached a hand across. Joe smiled back and 
clasped it. 


FIRST BASE FAULKNER 41 
“Thanks. Mine is Faulkner.” 

“Sam!” called Pollock. The boy at the front 
of the store, who had been gravely looking out 
into the street, turned inquiringly. He didn’t 
resemble the other in build or features, but there 
was, nevertheless, a similarity between them that 
Joe couldn’t explain. He wasn’t handsome, but 
he had a nice pair of gray eyes and a generously 
wide mouth that, although no smile curved it, 
somehow seemed to proclaim good nature and 
kindliness. In build he was heavier than his 
friend, more sturdy, with a resolute way of plant- 
ing his feet that seemed to defy anything short 
of an explosion of dynamite to move him until 
he was ready to move. He approached in re- 
sponse to Pollock’s hail. 

‘ ‘ Sam, I want you to know Mr. Faulkner, ’ ’ said 
Pollock. “Faulkner, this is Sam Craig. Sam’s 
our baseball captain and a gentleman of much 
wisdom.” The two shook hands, Joe a trifle em- 
barrassedly, Sam Craig with a slight lifting of 
one corner of his serious mouth and an accom- 
panying lighting of the gray eyes. 

“How are you, Faulkner? I’ve seen you 
around school, I think. Glad to meet you.” The 
clasp was a very hearty one, almost painfully 


42 


FIRST BASE FAULKNER 


hearty, and Joe worked his fingers afterwards to 
see that they were still whole. 

‘ ‘Faulkner,’ ’ continued Pollock, completing the 
lacing of the boot, “is a stranger in our midst, 
Sam. He’s just come from Akron. He says he 
hasn’t got acquainted much yet. What’ll we do 
about it? Our fair city has a world- wide reputa- 
tion for hospitality, you know, and it mustn’t be 
marred.” 

“I’ve only been here since last Monday,” said 
Joe. “I guess a fellow can’t expect to make 
many acquaintances in that time.” 

“Going skating?” asked Sam. 

“Yes. He says the pond is better than the 
river. ’ ’ 

“It is. I was there yesterday; the river, I 
mean. It isn’t safe more than fifty feet from 
shore. Proctor’s Pond is the best place just now. 
I’m going down there myself. If you’d like to 
come along I’ll show you the way.” 

“Thanks, yes, I’d be glad to.” 

“Do you play hockey?” asked Pollock. 

“No. I’ve never tried it.” 

“The team’s practising there this morning 
and I thought that if you played you’d better get 
Sam to work you in with the scrubs for a 
try-out.” 


FIRST BASE FAULKNER 43 

“Thanks, but I don’t. I’m not a very good 
skater, either.” 

“That makes no matter. Neither is Sam, but 
they’ve got him playing goal. That’s the reason, 
I guess. If Sam lets go of the goal he always 
falls down.” 

Joe smiled politely as he paid for the lacing. 
Sam paid no attention to the slur. 

“Tom wants to sell you a hockey-stick,” he 
said calmly. “Just the same, if you’d like to try 
it, now’s the time. We need fellows.” 

“I’d like to, but I’d be ashamed to,” laughed 
Joe. “What I’d have to do first is learn to keep 
on my feet.” 

“Just watch Sam, then,” said Tom Pollock. 
“ If he does a thing one way, you do it the other, 
and you’ll be all right. I suppose I can’t sell you 
a pair of gloves or a sweater, Faulkner?” 

“No, thanks. Not today, anyway. Maybe an- 
other time ” 

“Don’t promise anything,” interrupted Sam. 
“There’s a good store up the street. Shall we 
start along?” 

“I’m all ready. Thanks for putting that lacing 
in, Pollard.” 

“Pollock is the name,” said Tom. “Think of 
a fish.” 


44 


FIRST BASE FAULKNER 


“A fish?” asked Joe vaguely. 

i ‘ Yes. A pollock’s a fish, you know.” 

“And a mighty ugly, mean-looking fish, too,” 
said Sam with one of his infrequent smiles. 4 4 Call 
him what you like, Faulkner. Anything’s good 
enough for him. Where’s that stick of mine, 
Tom?” 

“Just where you left it, on top of the case up 
there. Wish I could go along with you chaps. I 
haven’t seen you crack the ice this Winter, Sam.” 

“I’m getting so I can fall soft now.” He 
picked a hockey-stick, to which were attached 
boots, skates and leg-pads, from the showcase 
and moved toward the door. “See you later, 
Tom. Come on, Faulkner.” 

Joe nodded to Tom Pollock and followed his 
new acquaintance outside. 


CHAPTER IV 


JOE FINDS A FEIEND 

“Walk or ride?” asked Sam, when they were on 
the sidewalk. 

“Just as you like,” answered Joe. “Walk, if 
you don’t mind.” 

“I’d rather.” And Sam set off along the street 
at a brisk pace. “That’s the new Adams Build- 
ing,” he said presently, nodding toward the tall 
structure across the street. “We’re rather proud 
of it, as it’s our only skyscraper. The old one — 
it wasn’t old, though — burned last Fall. I’ve 
been working for the architects who are putting 
that up.” 

“Really? It must have been a peach of a fire! 
Was the old building as big as that one?” 

“Bigger. It had fourteen floors and this has 
only twelve. The water pressure here isn’t good 
enough yet for high buildings. That’s why we 
left off seventeen feet this time. Still, this new 
building’s fireproof from top to bottom and I 
guess you could start a fire in it and have to lug 
45 


46 FIRST BASE FAULKNER 

fuel to keep it going! Rather good-looking, isn’t 

it?” 

“Awfully,” agreed Joe. 

“I suppose you’ve got office buildings in Akron 
that beat it, but we think it’s some building. We 
turn off here.” 

They left the busy part of town and walked 
briskly along a residence street until, at last, 
open country was reached. Sam, having ex- 
hausted the subject of the new Adams Building, 
didn’t have much to say and conversation was 
desultory until Joe, hunting for a topic, remem- 
bered baseball. 

“Pollock said you were captain of the baseball 
team, didn’t he?” he questioned. 

Sam nodded. “Yes. Tom could have had it, 
but he wouldn’t. So they hit on me.” 

“Pollock, you mean?” 

“Yes. He has charge of the sporting goods 
department there at Cummings and Wright’s 
and thought he wouldn’t have time to look after 
the team. Where have you played?” 

“In Akron. Oh, you mean what position? 
Last Spring I played first base for our Second 
Team. How — how did you know I played at all ? ” 

“Felt that crooked finger of yours. Break it?” 

“Yes, and didn’t know it for a couple of days. 


FIRST BASE FAULKNER 


47 

Thought it was just a strain. Then when it came 
out of the splints it had an out-curve. I guess 
I’ll have to have it broken again some day and 
set right.” 

‘ ‘ Well, it didn’t look so bad,” said Sam ju- 
dicially. “I happened to notice it when we shook 
hands. We’ll be glad to have another candidate 
for the bases. You’ll have a couple of pretty 
good fellows to fight, but I wouldn’t be surprised 
if you made good somewhere. How are you at 
the bat?” 

Joe shook his head ruefully. “ Pretty rotten 
last year. I used to hit pretty well when I was 
on the grammar school team, but I guess the 
pitching was awfully soft. I suppose you begin 
practice indoors some time next month?” 

“About the middle. You’ll have a chance to 
get your batting-eye. We usually put the fellows 
through a good deal of bunting work in the cage. 
It seems to help a lot when they get outdoors. 
There’s the pond over there. Let’s cut across 
here; it’s shorter.” 

The pond was some three acres in extent, and 
was long and narrow, curving back around the 
shoulder of a hill and looking at first glance like 
a river. As Joe and his guide climbed a rail- 
fence and crossed a snow-covered meadow, fol- 


48 


FIRST BASE FAULKNER 


lowing a well-trodden track, the pond proved to 
be well populated. Skaters were gliding and 
turning, many armed with hockey-sticks, and at 
the nearer end of the ice two sets of goal-posts 
were in place. Some of the hockey players had 
already thrown aside their coats and were warm- 
ing up, their blue-stockinged legs twinkling over 
the glassy surface. 

“We usually practise on the river,’ ’ explained 
Sam, “but it isn’t good enough yet. We’ve got 
some nets, but there’s no way of getting them out 
here, and so we just use the posts. They’re mean 
things, though; always getting pushed out of 
place. Come over here and meet some of the 
fellows.” 

Sam’s appearance was vociferously hailed by 
a knot of boys at the edge of the ice. Some of 
the younger fellows had started a fire there and 
were scurrying around, far and near, for fuel. 
Joe was introduced to seven or eight chaps, many 
of whose names he either didn’t catch or promptly 
forgot. Those he did recall later were Arbuckle, 
Morris and Strobe. Arbuckle proved to be the 
coach, although he was apparently no older than 
several of the players, and Morris was the cap- 
tain. Morris, whose first name was Sidney and 
who was universally called Sid, was a handsome 


FIRST BASE FAULKNER 


49 


chap, lean, well-conditioned, and a marvel on 
skates. He was of about Sam Craig’s age. 
Arbuckle was a heavier fellow of eighteen and 
bore signs on his upper lip of an incipient 
mustache. Strobe Joe remembered chiefly be- 
cause his name was unusual, although the latter 
wasn’t certain whether it was Strobe or Strode 
at the time. 

They were all far too interested in hockey to 
pay more than passing attention to the stranger 
and Joe presently retired from the group and 
donned his skates. By the time he was ready for 
the ice Steve Arbuckle had blown his whistle and 
fourteen eager youths were racing and twisting 
about after the flying puck. In front of the First 
Team’s goal Sam Craig, sweatered and padded, 
leaned on his broad-bladed stick and calmly 
watched. Then a Second Team forward some- 
how stole the puck from under Captain Morris’s 
nose and, digging the points of his skates, slanted 
down the rink, dodging and feinting, until only 
the point remained between him and goal- 
keeper. Behind him the pursuit sped, but he was 
due for a shot if he could fool the point, and fool 
the point he did. Away slid the puck to the right, 
the charging Second Team forward twirled, re- 
covered as the point missed his check, got the 


50 


FIRST BASE FAULKNER 


puck again before the coverpoint could reach it 
and charged straight at goal from the right. 

Sam Craig, still apparently calm and unflus- 
tered, refused the challenge to go out and meet 
him. Instead, he closed his padded knees to- 
gether, held his stick across his body and waited.. 
The Second Team player shot from six feet away, 
shot hard and straight. There was a thud , the 
puck slammed against Sam’s knee and was gently 
brushed aside as Sid Morris, skating like a whirl- 
wind, rushed past, hooked it expertly, swung 
around behind the goal and set off again down 
the ice. The Second Team forward, who had so 
nearly scored, was already back in line, quite un- 
troubled by his failure, and Joe identified him as 
Strobe. Sidney lost the puck a moment later and 
the whistle shrilled for off-side. Joe watched 
until the First Team had finally penetrated the 
adversary’s defence and scored its first goal and 
then went off up the pond to skate. Since most 
of the fellows were watching the hockey he had 
the upper reaches of the ice practically to himself. 

Joe was only a fair skater, and now, swinging 
along and following the curving shore, he found 
himself envying the ability of those chaps on the 
hockey teams. It must, he thought, be fine to be 
able to skate as they did, to feel as much at home 


FIRST BASE FAULKNER 


51 


on steel runners as on leather, and he wondered 
if any amount of practice would ever enable him 
to duplicate their marvellous feats. He wished 
he could play hockey, too. It looked mighty ex- 
citing. Experimentally, he turned and started to 
skate backward, zigzagging as he had seen the 
Second Team’s coverpoint do. All went well for 
a minute, but then he raised his hands to the sky, 
followed them with his feet and went down on 
his head and shoulders. He had quite a nice slide, 
but he wasn’t able to enjoy it much, since he was 
too busy watching the vari-coloured stars that 
flashed in front of his closed eyes. When he 
stopped sliding he felt gingerly of his head, 
grinned and climbed carefully to his feet 
again. 

“ That’s what you get,” he murmured, “for 
trying to be smart.” 

However, when he had got his breath again he 
was ready for more experiments and tried the 
inner edge-roll with fair success, and, becoming 
more ambitious, essayed a figure eight. But that 
didn’t go very smoothly, and since by that time 
he had neighbours about him he stopped his 
capers. One of the neighbours skated toward 
him, but Joe paid no heed to him until he swung 
around and came to a stop a few feet away. 


52 


FIRST BASE FAULKNER 


“Do it slower and yon ’ll get it all right,’ ’ ob- 
served the boy pleasantly. Joe saw then that he 
was Strobe. He had pulled a faded blue sweater 
on and still carried his stick. He was a merry- 
faced fellow, with good features, bright blue eyes 
and a good deal of colour in his cheeks. He was 
evidently about sixteen and rather tall for that 
age. He smiled in friendly fashion as Joe glanced 
up and stopped so awkwardly that he almost fell 
into Strobe’s arms. 

“It isn’t hard,” the latter continued. “Like 
this. See?” He described a circle on the outer 
edge, changed to the inner and completed the 
figure slowly and gracefully. 

“I know very well it isn’t hard,” replied Joe, 
“but it’s hard for me because I’m a perfectly 
punk skater.” 

Strobe laughed. “Oh, well, practice is all you 
need. Can you do the ‘Figure 3’?” 

“Pretty well. I guess you have to learn to 
skate when you’re about five years old to do it 
decently. Like swimming. I never skated much 
until two years ago.” 

“I started when I was about eight, I guess,” 
laughed Strobe. “Know this one?” 

“This one” was a “Maltese Cross” so per- 
fectly done that every loop was the same to an 


FIRST BASE FAULKNER 


53 


inch. Joe watched and sighed in envious admira- 
tion. “That’s dandy,” he said. 4 4 It’s like the 
4 cross-cut’ only there’s more of it.” 

4 4 Yes, the 4 cross-cut’ repeated three times. It. 
isn’t hard, really. You could learn it in an hour.” 

44 1 couldn’t learn it in a month,” replied Joe 
disgustedly. 44 I can’t even skate backwards 
without bumping my head on the ice.” 

4 4 W ell, I ’ve bumped mine often enough. That ’s 
part of the education. I’ve seen some perfectly 
wonderful stars in my time!” He started to 
skate and Joe joined him. 

44 You’re not playing any more?” asked the lat- 
ter, as the shrill sound of a whistle from around 
the shoulder of the hill told him that the game 
was still on. 

4 4 No. Sidell’s got my place for this half. 
There’s a half-dozen of us all trying for a wing 
position on the Second, and Steve has his hands 
full giving us each a show.” He chuckled softly. 
4 4 He forgot in the first half and let me play right 
through.” 

4 4 Hockey must be good fun,” mused Joe, 
secretly trying to copy his companion’s ease of 
motion. 

‘ 4 Bully. I wish I could play better and make 
the First.” 


54 FIRST BASE FAULKNER 

“I thought you did finely when you skated 
down and tried that shot,” said Joe. 

“Mostly luck. Besides, tries don’t count; it’s 
only goals. And I ought to have got that in that 
time. It was up to me to skate past and push it 
in instead of whanging it. You can’t get the puck 
past Sam Craig that way. I knew it, too, only I 
thought I’d be smart. Let’s go up and watch 
them. Mind?” 

“No, I’d like to,” replied Joe. 

They joined the line of spectators along the 
side of the supposititious rink, being frequently 
obliged to flee before the slashing sticks or plung- 
ing forms of the players, and witnessed the final 
decisive triumph of the First Team by a score 
of seven goals to two. A few of the players re- 
mained to practise further, but most of them, ac- 
companied by a full half of their audience, crossed 
a field to where, a quarter of a mile distant, a 
blue-sided trolley-car was waiting outside the 
board fence of the Fair Grounds to start its noon 
journey townwards. Joe found himself still in 
the company of Strobe, and was well satisfied, 
since there was something about the other chap 
that drew him. They were chatting quite inti- 
mately by the time the car was reached, and when 
they got out at Main Street Strobe lengthened 


I 



Joe found himself still in the company of Strobe 


































\ 




























» 









FIRST BASE FAULKNER 55 

his own journey homeward by several blocks in 
order to pursue the new acquaintanceship. 

Joe found out then and during the next meet- 
ing that Jack Strobe — his full name was Jack- 
son — was in Joe’s class at school, that he lived 
on Temple Street, that he played left field on the 
nine, that he was two months older than Joe, that 
his father was the senior partner of Strobe and 
Wonson, whose big jewelry store Joe had noticed 
on Main Street, and several other more or less 
interesting facts. It was only when Joe was in 
the house that he recollected that he had failed 
to take leave of Sam Craig. He had meant to 
thank him for taking him out to the pond, but 
had been so absorbed in this red-cheeked, blue- 
eyed Strobe chap that he had quite forgotten 
Sam’s existence. He hoped the latter wasn’t 
thinking him uncivil, and resolved to make an 
apology at the first opportunity. He had agreed 
to go around in the afternoon and call on Jack 
Strobe, and at a little after two was being ushered 
by a maid through the rather ornate front door 
of the Strobe mansion and into a cosy sitting- 
room — or perhaps it was a library, since there 
were two large bookcases flanking the fireplace, 
in which a soft-coal fire was sputtering greasily. 
Jack came charging down the stairs and at once 


56 


FIRST RASE FAULKNER 


haled the visitor up to the third floor, where, on 
the back of the house, overlooking a wide vista 
of snowy roofs and distant country, J ack had his 
own particular sanctum. 

It was a big square room lighted by three win- 
dows set close together, and at first glance looked 
like a museum or a curio shop. Almost every 
inch of wall space was covered with pictures, 
posters or trophies of some kind, with snowshoes, 
tennis rackets, foils and mask, Indian moccasins, 
a couple of small-bore rifles, a battered lacrosse 
stick depended against them. A long, cushioned 
seat stood under the windows and was piled with 
brightly-coloured pillows. The floor was bare 
save for a few scattered rugs. A brass bed, a 
chiffonier, an immense study table, two comfort- 
able armchairs and several straight-backed chairs 
comprised the principal furnishings, but by no 
means all. Near the windows was a smaller table, 
holding wireless instruments. A set of book- 
shelves, evidently home-made — Jack referred to 
them as being “near-Mission” — held a miscel- 
laneous collection of volumes ranging from “ Zig- 
Zag Journeys’ ’ to the latest juvenile thriller, pre- 
sented last Christmas, and including all sorts of 
old school-books with worn backs. An old sea- 
man’s chest stood against a wall, the repository 


FIRST BASE FAULKNER 57 

for abandoned toys and devices. One end was 
decorated with the legend, apparently inscribed 
with a brush dipped in shoe-blacking: ‘ 4 Captain 
Kidd His Chest! Beware !!” One corner of the 
room held an assortment of fishing-rods, golf- 
clubs and hockey-sticks, and another a pair of 
skiis, two canoe paddles, and a camera tripod. 
The camera itself stood nearby, neighboured by a 
jig-saw, and a stereopticon sat beside it. Joe 
gazed and marvelled. 

“You’ve got about everything there is up here, 
haven’t you?” he exclaimed. “Is that a wireless 
set? How’s it work? I never saw one near-to.” 

The instruments were duly explained, not over- 
enthusiastically, since Jack had lost interest in 
wireless telegraphy after a year of devotion, and 
then Joe made a tour of the room, examining and 
questioning and enjoying himself hugely. Later 
various scrap-books and stamp-books were pulled 
from under the window-seat and looked over, and 
finally, having still only partly exhausted the 
wonders, the two boys settled down amongst the 
cushions and talked. That afternoon sped like 
magic. Almost before they realised it the room 
was in twilight and from across town came the 
hoarse sound of the five o’clock whistle at the 
carpet mills. Whereupon Joe said he must go, 


58 


FIRST BASE FAULKNER 


and Jack, remonstrating, led him downstairs, 
helped him on with his coat, and accompanied 
him to the steps. There : 

‘ 4 What are you doing tonight ?” he asked very 
carelessly. 

“ Nothing special,” replied Joe quite as disin- 
terestedly. 

There was a pause. Finally: 

‘ ‘ 1 might run in for a minute, ’ ’ announced J ack. 
“I’m going downtown anyway and ” 

“Wish you would.” 

“Your aunt won’t mind?” 

“Of course not. I haven’t much to show you, 
though. My room’s just a box, you know.” 

“That’s all right. We can talk some more. 
About eight?” 

“Before, if you can.” 

“Half -past seven?” 

“Yes. Don’t forget.” 

“I won’t. So long, Faulkner.” 

“So long. And thanks for — everything.” 

Jack laughed shortly. “I haven’t done any- 
thing. See you later. ’ ’ 

“Sure!” 


CHAPTEK V 


HOCKEY AND JUST TALK 

That was the beginning of a friendship that 
lasted — well, so far as I know, it’s still lasting 
and seems likely to continue lasting indefinitely. 
In the course of time the inseparable chums were 
facetiously referred to as the “two Jays’ ’ or the 
“Joejacks.” Months later each acknowledged, 
a trifle shamefacedly, since the acknowledgment 
bordered on sentiment, that he had taken to the 
other at the moment of their first meeting. That 
was as near an expression of affection as they 
came to, but within a week of that day at Proc- 
tor’s Pond Joe would have jumped off the top 
of the Adams Building if by so doing he could 
have benefited his friend, and Jack would have 
just as readily plunged into the river from the 
railroad bridge had a similar result impended. 
And since Jack at that time couldn’t swim a 
stroke, his deed would have compared favourably 
with Joe’s as a token of esteem! 

Neither, however, was required to undertake 
59 


60 


FIRST BASE FAULKNER 


such feats of self-sacrifice. Perhaps the nearest 
approach to them occurred when J oe stood about 
on the ice, with the thermometer hovering around 
zero, his feet numb and his fingers aching, while 
he admiringly watched Jack struggle for a posi- 
tion on the First Team, or when Jack, as became 
his custom when duties allowed, tramped by Joe ’s 
side through slush or sleet or rain over Route 6 ! 
They were together whenever it was possible, 
and when it wasn’t they were either signalling 
across schoolrooms or using up Mr. Strobe ’s and 
Aunt Sarah’s monthly allowance of telephone 
calls. 

January passed into history very happily for 
Joe. He was earning enough to pay Aunt Sarah 
all but fifty cents a week for his accommodations, 
he was doing well at his studies, he was getting 
cheerful letters every few days from his mother, 
and he was enjoying the jolliest, finest sort of 
friendship. When the hockey team journeyed to 
Preston Mills to play the academy fellows and 
Jack went along as a possible necessary substi- 
tute forward, Joe went along also and huddled 
in his coat on a settee and held Jack’s ulster and 
saw the Brown-and-Blue go down in defeat to the 
tune of four to three in an overtime contest, and 
mourned with the others on the way back, and 


FIRST BASE FAULKNER 


61 


with them vowed dire vengeance when Preston 
paid a return visit. That day a substitute deliv- 
ered Joe’s papers and he was short fifty cents 
the following Monday and went without pocket- 
money for a whole week. But he didn’t mind — 
much. It was worth more than that, much more, 
to accompany Jack to Preston Mills. 

The hockey team didn’t meet with defeat on 
all occasions, however, although it can ’t be denied 
that, in spite of the best endeavours of coach, 
captain, and players, they ended the season with 
fewer victories than beatings. But they did over- 
whelm Preston Academy nicely the first week in 
February and found the revenge sweet. The ice 
was in miserable shape that afternoon, for there 
had been a thaw, and the visitors suffered more in 
consequence than did the home team, for the 
latter had cannily spent the forenoon practising 
under the adverse conditions. The game was 
played on the river and inside a regular barrier 
and with net goals. Jack had at last proven his 
right to a place amongst the First Team substi- 
tutes, and in the second period that afternoon he 
went further and showed that he was as good a 
right-wing as high school could put on the ice. 
And Joe, excitedly and noisily admiring, was 
filled with triumph. 


62 FIRST BASE FAULKNER 

The score was two to one in Amesville’s favour 
when the whistle started the second half and Sid 
Morris faced off with the opposing centre. Each 
seven had shown a good defence and Amesville’s 
second goal had been rather in the nature of an 
accident, the puck slipping around the corner of 
the net when four or five sticks had been poking 
and hooking at it in a half-inch of water and the 
goal-tender’s skate had for an instant slipped 
aside. It was still anybody’s battle from all indi- 
cations and both teams started in in whirlwind 
fashion. Preston’s gray-legged warriors kept 
the Brown-and-Blue busy for the first five minutes 
and hammered shot after shot at Sam Craig’s 
anatomy. Amesville forgot team-play in the 
effort to keep the enemy away from the goal, with 
the result that Preston fooled her time and again 
and forced the playing until Sid’s shrill appeals 
to ‘ 4 Take it away from them, High School!” 
rose high above the rattling of sticks, the grind- 
ing of skates, and the inarticulate cries of the 
players. Only an off-side play prevented a score 
for Preston four minutes after the whistle, for a 
hard, low shot got safely past Sam’s shins and 
into the net. But on the face-off it was Jack 
Strobe who stole the disc from between the feet 
of the two opponents and who, passing once 


FIRST BASE FAULKNER 


63 


across the rink to Captain Morris and drawing 
the coverpoint from position, took the puck on 
the return, upset the point and slashed past the 
goal-tender for Amesville ’s third tally. 

How Joe cheered and shouted! And how all 
the others did, too ; all save the handful of faith- 
ful Prestonians who had journeyed down with 
their team! There was still nearly fifteen min- 
utes of actual time left and Amesville, encour- 
aged, recovered from her confusion and took the 
whip-hand. Time and again Jack and Sidney 
Morris, working together as though they had 
played side by side for years, swept the enemy 
off its feet and rushed down the ice with the puck, 
eluding the defence more often than not, and 
making shot after shot at goal. That Preston 
Academy was only tallied on five times in that 
second half was only because neither Sidney nor 
Jack nor the other forwards, Hale and Simpson, 
who infrequently found an opportunity to bom- 
bard the net, were especially clever shots. But 
Amesville was well satisfied with the final result 
of the game. Seven to one was decisive enough 
to more than atone for the defeat at Preston 
Mills. Joe walked back with his hero and was as 
proud as Punch. 

It was that evening that Joe voiced a regret 


64 


FIRST BASE FAULKNER 


that had been troubling him for some time. The 
two boys were in Joe’s room, and Jack, a bit lame 
and more or less bruised, was stretched on the 
bed, something that Aunt Sarah would not have 
approved of. Aunt Sarah, however, was getting 
used to having boys around and was making the 
discovery that laws made for grown-up folks can- 
not always be applied to youths. At first Jack’s 
almost daily appearance at the door, followed by 
his polite inquiry, “Is Joe in, Miss Teele!” was 
greeted by doubtful, sharp glances. Then Jack’s 
smiles melted the ice, and Aunt Sarah confided 
to Joe one day that that Strobe boy seemed real 
nice. A day or two later, J oe, returning from his 
newspaper delivering, found that a strip of gray 
linen had been laid over the stair carpet and con- 
tinued along the upper hallway to his door. Aunt 
Sarah, while reconciled to visitors, was not going 
to have her carpet worn out. 

“I wish,” said Joe this evening, “that I could 
do something.” 

“What do you mean, do something!” asked 
Jack lazily, turning slightly to take his weight off 
a lame hip. 

“Something like other fellows,” explained 
J ack frowningly. ‘ ‘ I can’t play hockey or basket- 
ball or tennis or — or even skate! I can’t play 


FIRST BASE FAULKNER 65 

football, either. Most fellows can do two or three 
things well. Pm no good at anything.’ ’ 

“Piffle!” said Joe. “You play baseball, 
don’t you? And you can skate pretty well.” 

“Yes, like a ton of bricks! As for baseball, 
well, yes, I can catch a ball if it’s thrown at me 
and I can bat a little and I’m fairly fast on bases. 
But I’m no wonder at it. I want to play some- 
thing decently, Jack.” 

“I suppose you’re making things out worse 
than they really are. Any fellow can do those 
stunts if he tries hard enough. Funny you don’t 
play tennis, though. Why?” 

“I never cared for it. I guess the reason I 
don’t do things is because I never wanted to 
much before. Beside, at home — in Akron — I was 
always pretty busy with other things. I — I 
studied pretty hard ” 

“There you are, then!” said Jack trium- 
phantly. “Don’t you know that a fellow can’t be 
a grind and a great athlete, too? Look at me. 
You don’t find me being pointed out as an exam- 
ple of conduct, do you? You didn’t see my book- 
case stutfed with prize volumes, did you? Ever 
hear of me getting an A, or even a B-plus, in 
anything? Answer, No , with a capital N! A 
chap simply has to choose, Joey, whether he is 


66 


FIRST BASE FAULKNER 


to make his mark one way or the other. I chose 
the other. It’s more fun.” 

“You’re talking a lot of rot. I happen to know 
that you were pretty near the head in your class 
last year. And you never have any trouble with 
your studies. Besides, I was reading not long 
ago that the principal athletes at one of the col- 
leges' in the East — either Yale or Harvard, I 
think — were ’way up in their studies ; honour men 
and things like that.” 

“Oh, if you believe the newspapers ” 

“Newspapers are a heap more truthful than 
folks,” interrupted Joe. “I’ve heard my father 
say that lots of times. Anyway, it’s silly to say 
a fellow can’t study and go in for athletics, too. 
Look at Sam Craig. He plays baseball, football, 
and hockey, you told me. And he’s ’way up in 
his class.” 

“Well, if you’re going to prove things I shan’t 
argue,” sighed Jack. “It’s no fun arguing when 
the other fellow insists on proving he’s right. 
It — it puts you at a disadvantage. Anyway, all 
that’s got nothing to do with what we were talk- 
ing about. You said you wished you could do 
something. I say you can play baseball. That’s 
something, isn’t it? I’d rather make the nine 
than the hockey team any day.” 


FIRST BASE FAULKNER 


67 


“You’ve made both,” replied Joe disconso- 
lately. ‘ ‘ I don’t believe I ’ll ever make anything. ’ ’ 
“ A couple of piffles! In two months you’ll be 
holding down first or second base. I wish you’d 
beat out Frank Foley for first, Joe. If you’ll do 
that I’ll present you with anything I own. I’ll 
give you an order on dad for a diamond sun-burst 
or a chest of silver. Mind, I don’t say you’d get 
the things; but I’ll give you the order.” 

“Who’s Frank Foley?” asked Joe. 

“What? You’re never heard' of ‘Handsome 
Frank’? For the love of lemons, don’t let him 
hear you, Joey! Why, Frank is our Adonis, our 

Beau Brumme.l, our — our ” 

“Well, what is he when he isn’t Brummeling?” 
“There ain’t no such time. He’s always on 
that job. Frank is the life of our little parties 
on all occasions. He has his nails manicured 
every day and sends to Cleveland or Chicago or 
somewhere for his neckties — only he calls them 
scarves. Frank is some swell, believe me! You 
surely must have seen him.” 

“Tall and sort of bored-looking? Wears a 
greenish Norfolk suit?” 

“Yep, that’s Frank. You can’t always tell 
him by that green suit, though, for he has half a 
dozen if he has one. I don’t see how he does it, 


68 FIRST BASE FAULKNER 

because his father hasn’t much coin, they say. 
He’s division superintendent on the railroad. 
I’ll bet he keeps his father poor. Anyway, he’s 
our best little dresser and we’re mighty proud 
of him.” 

“You didn’t sound so a moment ago.” 

“Well, I’ll tell you.” Jack changed his posi- 
tion with a suppressed groan. “As a thing of 
beauty, so to speak, as a — a picturesque feature 
of the local landscape — say, that’s pretty good, 
isn’t it? Picturesque feature of the local land- 
scape! — Well, as one of those things he’s fine and 
we’re proud as can be of him. If a circus came 
to town we ’d trot Frank out and simply run away 
with the honors. But as a — a regular fellow he 
won’t do. He’s too — oh, I don’t know what he 
is. I don’t like him for so many reasons that I 
can’t think of the first one. I always have a 
fearful temptation to walk on his shoes and take 
the shine off or bang a snowball against his hat 
or tie him down and put a little natural dirt 
under his finger-nails. Mind you, Joey, I love 
clean finger-nails” — he shoved his hands under 
him as he spoke — “but I hate to have a fellow 
dazzle my eyes every time he moves his hands! 
Besides, I object to green Norfolks and green 
hats with the bows in the wrong place and fancy 


FIRST BASE FAULKNER 69 

vests — waistcoats, I mean! Gee, I’m glad Frank 
didn’t hear me call ’em vests! The trouble with 
Handsome Frank is that he’s a good-looker and 
someone’s told him about it. He can’t forget it 
for a minute. Now, I’m a handsome brute, Joey, 
and you’re not as homely as you might be, but 
we don’t go around throwing our chests out and 
trying to look like — like a work of art, do we? 
And we don’t dress up like a horse, do we? And 
we don’t polish our finger-nails till they shine 
like nice little pink pearls, do we? Let’s see 
yours. No, we don’t!” 

“Well, if he’s like that I shouldn’t expect him 
to play anything as rough and rude as baseball,” 
said Joe. 

“No, would you? And yet he does. And he 
plays football, too, which is a degree and a half 
rougher and ruder. As a matter of fact, Joe, 
Handsome Frank is a corking good first baseman, 
and no slouch of a tackle. He’s the fellow you’ll 
have to fight hardest for first, if you’ve set your 
heart on that position.” 

“I haven’t. I’d be a silly chump to. I don’t 
believe I play well enough to get a show with the 
Second Team.” 

“Two more orders of piffle, and have them 
hot! Don’t assume that attitude, Joey. Don’t 


70 FIRST BASE FAULKNER 

tell folks you’re no good. They might be- 
lieve you. I’ve noticed folks are more likely 
to believe you when you tell them you’re rotten 
than when you crack yourself up. You keep a 
still mouth, old chap, and if anyone says ‘What 
was your batting average last year, Mr. Faulk- 
ner ?’ or ‘What was your fielding average?’ you 
dust a speck off your sleeve and look ’em square 
in the eye and say, careless-like, ‘I batted for 
three-twenty-seven and fielded for a little over 
four hundred!’ They won’t believe you, but 
they’ll think ‘If he can lie as well as that he 
must play a pretty good game of ball ! ’ ’ > 

“Jack, you’re an awful chump tonight,” 
laughed his chum. “What does your friend 
Frank do when he gets some dust on his hands 
fielding a ball or soils his trousers sliding to 
base? Does he stop the game and telephone for 
a manicure and a whisk-broom?” 

“No. He bears it wonderfully. Oh, I suppose 
I’ve made him out worse than he is. I just don’t 
like him. Still, I’m not the only one, by a long 
shot. You’d have trouble finding many fellows 
who do like him. But he can play baseball and 
he’s a peach of a baseman. He’s not much at 
hitting, though. Are you, Joe?” 

“Fairly rotten, thanks.” 


FIEST BASE FAULKNER 


71 


“Well* that won’t do. You dig hard when 
practice begins. Find your batting-eye, Joey. 
Then, if you can hold down first base decently 
well, you might oust Mr. Foley. I’d consider it 
a personal favour if you did.” 

“Seems to me it’s a good thing you don’t actu- 
ally hate Foley. If you did you’d insist on hav- 
ing him thrown into the river or browned in oil ! 
When you take a dislike to me, please let me 
know, Jack, so I can beat it while the beating’s 
good.” 

“Well,” replied Jack cheerfully, “I’m like 
that, I guess. If I like a fellow I like him a lot. 
If I dislike him I haven’t any use for him. I 
suppose it’s my ardent Spanish nature.” 

“Your wliat?” 

“Yep. You see, Joey, about three or maybe 
four hundred years ago I had a Spanish ancestor. 
Spaniards, you know, are hot-blooded, des- 
perate rascals. Whenever I do anything real 
wicked I lay it to that ancestor. It’s a con- 
venience. ’ ’ 

“You and your old ancestor!” scoffed Joe. 
“Say, what sort of practice do we do in the base- 
ball cage?” 

“Naturally, we do tatting and plain sewing.” 

“Oh, cut it out, Jack! Honest, what can you 


72 FIRST BASE FAULKNER 

do indoors? I never saw anyone practise base- 
ball in a cage.” 

“Batteries get the most out of it, Joe. But 
we all go through a certain amount of stuff. 
Bat’s a great believer in setting-up exercises, for 
one thing. He keeps us at that for a week or so 
before we’re allowed to touch a ball. Then the 
pitchers and catchers work together and we have 
a batting session each day and we slide to base 
and — and pass, of course.” 

“Bat’s the coach, isn’t he?” 

“Yep. Mr. Bennet A. Talbot; B, A, T, Bat. 
He’s a good sort, too. And knows a baseball 
from a rosy-cheeked apple, if anyone should en- 
quire. He’s all right. I’m strong for Bat.” 

“A good name for a baseball coach,” laughed 
Joe. 

“The fact has been suggested before,” replied 
Jack with a grin. 

“Oh, I didn’t suppose I was getting off a new 
one. But, look here, you can’t do much hitting 
in a little old cage, can you ! ’ ’ 

“Not if Tom Pollock’s pitching,” chuckled 
Jack. “Why, you see, my ignorant friend, the 
idea is not to knock the ball through the wires, 
but to tap it politely. Bat will tell you that if 
you can get your bat against the ball in the cage 


FIRST BASE FAULKNER 


73 


you can do it when you get on the field. I don’t 
know that he’s terrifically right about it, though. 
I don’t believe it does any harm to roll bunts 
around in the gym, but I do know that in my 
own case as soon as we move outdoors and I take 
a healthy swing at the ball it isn’t there! And 
it takes me a week or so at the net to find it. ’ ’ 

6 ‘They tell me you’re a peach of a batter,” said 
Joe admiringly and a trifle enviously. 

“Oh, I connect sometimes. When I do they 
travel. That’s all. I’m no H. R. Baker.” 
“Who’s he?” asked Joe innocently. 
“Ball-player. I’m going home. Your igno- 
rance may be catching. See you in the morning. 
Who swiped my— Oh, here is it. So long, Joey!” 


CHAPTER VI 


JOE HAS AN IDEA 

Joe’s circle of friends and acquaintances wid- 
ened. He met many fellows through Jack, and 
Jack seemed to know most of the better sort of 
boys in the town. What sometimes puzzled Joe 
was how it had happened that Jack, with so many 
friends to choose from, had remained without a 
special chum and had finally chosen him. Joe 
got on very friendly terms with Tom Pollock and 
became a great admirer of that youth. Anyone 
with such a reputation as a pitcher and all-around 
ball-player as Tom had would have won Joe’s 
respect and regard in any case, but Tom was a 
very likable chap besides. Sam Craig he saw 
less of, although Sam was nice when they met, 
and more than once reminded him of the ap- 
proaching fifteenth of February, on which day 
baseball practice was to start indoors. 

By the beginning of February Joe was quite at 
home in Amesville and had grown to like the place 
thoroughly. He and Aunt Sarah were getting on 
74 


FIRST BASE FAULKNER 


75 


finely. Aunt Sarah was outwardly still the same 
stern- visaged, sharp-voiced person, but Joe had 
discovered that under that rather forbidding ex- 
terior lay a very kind heart. Nowadays Aunt 
Sarah’s principal mission in life appeared to be 
the finding of new ways to please Joe, without, 
if possible, allowing him to suspect it ! 

Joe’s only cause for dissatisfaction was his 
after-school work. In less than a fortnight in- 
door practice would begin for the baseball squad, 
and that meant that either he would ha’ve to give 
up his newspaper route or abandon his hope of 
making the nine. Consequently, he began to look 
around harder than ever for some labour that he 
might perform in the evenings. He consulted 
Jack, of course, and Jack, while eager to aid, had 
nothing to offer in the way of practical sugges- 
tions. In the end, Joe solved the problem without 
assistance. 

He and Jack happened to be in Pryor’s sta- 
tionery store one afternoon. Jack was buying 
some fountain-pen ink and Joe strayed over to 
the counter that held a not very large assortment 
of magazines, together with the local newspapers 
and a few papers from other cities of the State. 
While he was turning the pages of a magazine a 
well-dressed, middle-aged man came in and asked 


76 FIRST BASE FAULKNER 

for a Chicago Tribune . He was a travelling 
salesman, Joe concluded. Whether he was or not, 
he was contemptuously impatient when the clerk 
informed him that they didn’t keep Chicago 
papers. 

“ Don’t, eh?” he demanded. “No, I suppose 
you wouldn’t! I ought to have known it. You 
folks in this town don’t seem to know there’s any 
other place in the country. Still, you might have 
heard of Chicago. It’s a little village in Illinois, 
down near the lower end of Lake Michigan. 
There’s a tree in front of it. They were talking 
of building a horse-car line when I left. Got a 
Cleveland paper, then?” 

The sarcasm was quite lost on the youthful 
clerk. He only gazed in a puzzled fashion at the 
annoyed customer and shook his head. 

“There ain’t any left,” he said indifferently. 
“We had one this morning.” 

“You did? Think of that! One whole paper! 
Say, you folks take a lot of risks, don’t you? 
Just suppose you hadn’t sold it!” The irate 
gentleman left the store abruptly and Joe fol- 
lowed his departing figure with thoughtful eyes. 
A moment later Jack completed his purchase and 
they left the shop. It was well after five and, 
although it was the custom for Joe to walk home 


FIRST BASE FAULKNER 


77 


with Jack, this afternoon he pleaded duties and, 
promising to go around after supper, watched 
his friend lose himself in the throng. What Joe 
did next would have occasioned Jack some curi- 
osity had he been there to see. Joe crossed the 
street — the other side of the thoroughfare was 
less congested at this time — and went slowly 
northward for six blocks, his eyes busy all the 
way. Then he crossed again and returned on the 
first side. His travels took him over the busiest 
portion of the street and left him finally four 
blocks below the Adams Building. But what he 
was looking for he hadn’t seen, and he shook his 
head as he turned his steps northward again. 
In front of the Adams Building a small newsboy 
was selling the evening paper and Joe stopped. 

“Got a Cleveland paper?” he asked. 

The boy shook his head. “I don’t carry ’em,” 
he said. 

‘ 1 Columbus ? ’ ’ 

“Ain’t got nothin’ but the Recorder .” 

“That all you ever carry?” 

“Yep.” 

“Do you know where I can buy a Cleveland or 
a Columbus paper?” 

“You might get ’em at Pryor’s, three blocks 
up.” 


78 FIRST BASE FAULKNER 

Joe retreated to tlie front of the building and 
again looked about him. From the entrance be- 
side him quite a stream of folks were emerging 
to hurry homewards. At least every other one 
stopped to purchase a paper before going to the 
car or walking away. 

“ Hm, ” said Joe thoughtfully. “I wonder, 
now ! ’ 9 

He entered the lobby of the office building and 
studied it. On one side were the elevators. Be- 
hind them a broad marble stairway started up- 
ward, turning behind the cages, to the floor above. 
The lobby was not large, but it was large enough 
for the purpose Joe had in mind, and presently, 
when the occupants of one elevator had pushed 
out through the revolving doors, he stepped otf 
the little space between the first elevator and the 
front wall of the building. A little less than 
three yards he made it. The depth was five 
feet. Joe half closed his eyes and studied it. 
Then, jostled by another carful of departing oc- 
cupants, he made his way across to the directory 
beside the elevators. It was evident that many 
of the offices, and Joe decided that there must be 
some two hundred of them, were still unoccupied, 
although the building was now complete as to its 
interior. A placard near at hand notified the 


FIRST BASE FAULKNER 


79 


public that offices were to be rented of Joseph 
Adams, Room 129. At that moment an elevator 
descended and emptied itself, and the operator, 
observing J oe at the directory, asked who he was 
looking for. 

‘ ‘ Strobe,’ ’ replied Joe, giving the first name 
that came to his mind. 

“Not here. Maybe he’s coming later. If you 
mean John P. Strobe, his place is across the 
street there, on the opposite corner. Jeweler, is 
her’ 

Joe said he was and thanked the youth for the 
direction. Then, looking about him at the unsur- 
faced walls: “This is a pretty good building,” 
he observed. The other nodded. 

“Best in this town, anyway. It wouldn’t cut 
much ice in Cincinnati, I guess, but it’s pretty 
good for Amesville.” 

“Are there many in it?” 

“Sure, and it’s filling up fast. The old man’s 
renting two or three offices a day, I hear.” 

“I suppose there’ll be a news-stand here, won’t 
there?” 

‘ ‘ News-stand ? Search me ! I haven ’t heard of 
any.” 

“I should think you’d need one. You must 
have two or three hundred people in here.” 


80 


FIRST BASE FAULKNER 


‘ ‘ Easy ! There ’s two hundred and eight offices, 
and some has two or three people in ’em. Course, 

they ain’t all rented yet, but ” 

The signal buzzed and the operator slammed 
the door and shot out of sight just as another car 
arrived. Joe made his way out with the throng 
and hurried homeward, his mind very busy all 
the way. At supper he was so preoccupied and 
silent that Aunt Sarah tried to get him to describe 
his symptoms and watched him depart for 
Jack’s house with misgivings. Up in the big 
room on the third floor Joe laid the scheme 
before his chum. Jack was instantly enthu- 
siastic. 

‘ ‘ It’s simply great!” he declared. “How’d 
you ever think of it ? But you ’d sell other things 
besides newspapers, wouldn’t you, Joey?” 

“Yes. Cigars, candy, magazines — anything I 
could. You see, Jack, if folks who work in the 
building know they can get such things right 
there they’re pretty sure to deal with me. I 

ought to sell a lot of cigars ” 

“And chewing-gum,” laughed Jack. 

“And newspapers, too. And I’d make a 
specialty of carrying the Cincinnati and Cleve- 
land and Columbus papers, and the Chicago, too 
and maybe one of the New York papers. The 


FIRST BASE FAULKNER 81 

trouble is, though, that I’d have to have money 
to start with, and I haven’t got it.” 

“ That’s so.” Jack’s face fell. “How much 
would you need?” he asked after a minute. 

“It’s hard to tell. Of course, I don’t know 
what rent Mr. Adams would charge me, in the 
first place. In fact, I don’t know yet that he will 
rent the space at all. I wondered if your father 
knew him well enough to speak a good word for 
me, Jack.” 

“Of course he does! They’re thick as thieves. 
I’ll get dad to go and see him with you if you 
like. Want to go down and ask him now?” 

“No; wait a while. I was wondering ” 

Joe was silent a minute. Then: “Have you any 
money, Jack?” 

“Me? About a dollar. Want it?” 

1 ‘ I wondered whether you had any in the bank 
or ” 

“I have! I’d forgotten it. I’ve got about 
sixty dollars, I think. But I don’t know whether 
dad would want me to take it out, Joe. I’d lend 
it to you in a minute if he’d let me, though.” 

“I wasn’t thinking of borrowing it,” said Joe. 
“I was going to suggest that we go in together. 
I think we could start with about fifty dollars. 
We needn’t put in much of a stock at first, you 


82 


FIRST BASE FAULKNER 


know. There ’d be a month’s rent, say twenty 
dollars, and we’d have to buy a few boxes of 
cigars and we’d have to have a counter built. 
Maybe we ’d better say sixty dollars, to be on the 
safe side. I haven’t figured on it yet, but I be- 
lieve we could do it for sixty. I thought that if 
you’d put in half and take half the profits until 
you were square ” 

“I get you, Joey! Half would be only thirty 
dollars, wouldn’t it? I don’t believe dad would 
mind my taking out that much. But could you 
get the other thirty, Joey?” 

“I think so. I — I’ve got an idea that may 
work. Anyway ” 

“Why couldn’t I put in the whole sixty if dad 
will let me? In that way you wouldn’t have ” 

“It wouldn’t be wise,” said Joe. “I’m pretty 
sure I can make the thing go and pay a good 
profit, Jack, but if I happened to be wrong you’d 
stand to lose your money. And sixty dollars 
would be too much to drop. Besides, your father 
wouldn’t let you put in that much when I wasn’t 
putting in any.” 

“Maybe not. Let’s go down and talk to him 
about it.” 

“No, let’s go over it first. There may be some- 
thing I’ve missed. Now, say Mr. Adams lets us 


FIRST BASE FAULKNER 83 

have the space for twenty a month; that’s enough, 
although he may not think so; then we’ve got to 
have a counter built and that will cost, say, ten 
dollars. It’ll have to be made to look pretty 
neat, you know ; maybe it had better be imitation 
mahogany. Then we’d arrange with the news 
company for a small list of magazines. We’d 
have to pay cash for those at first, but they don’t 
cost much. Same way with the papers. There’s 
good money in the Gazette and the Recorder at 
two cents if you sell enough of them. Then we’d 
want to put in some confectionery, like gum and 
chocolate and package things. We can buy that 
in Cincinnati and get as little as we want to start 
on. At the end of the month we ought to have 
enough for the next month’s rent and enough to 
put in new stock. My idea would be to make the 
stock bigger all the time, as we could afford it. 
There wouldn’t be any other expenses, would 
there? Can you think of any?” 

Jack couldn’t. “It looks perfectly safe to me,” 
he said, “because the rent is the only thing we’d 
have to worry about, isn’t it? I mean, we needn’t 
have more cigars and other things at a time than 
we could sell right away.” 

“That’s the idea. We’ve got to begin in a 
small way and expand. We won’t lay out a cent 


84 


FIRST BASE FAULKNER 


more than we have to. Then, if it shouldn’t prove 
a go we wouldn’t be stung very much. The 
papers, you know, are returnable, so we wouldn’t 
get stuck on those. Some of the magazines are, 
too, I think.” 

‘ ‘ Hold on ! ” exclaimed J ack suddenly. ‘ ‘ Who ’s 
going to tend shop? We’ll be in school all day 
up to three o’clock. Bet you hadn’t thought of 
that!” 

“You must think I’m a good deal of an idiot,” 
laughed Joe. “I’ll tell you my scheme. I 
thought I could go down there in the morning 
and get things fixed. We’d have a box on the 
corner with a slot in it and when anyone bought 
anything they could drop the money in the box. 
Then, after school ” 

“Suppose they didn’t!” interrupted his chum. 
“Seems to me that’s pretty risky!” 

“I don’t believe so. You put folks on their 
honour like that and they’ll appreciate it and act 
square. I’ll bet we won’t lose half a dollar a 
month, Jack.” 

“Well, you’ve got a lot of faith, Joey. Still, 
you may be right at that. Come to think of it, 
I guess you are. All right. And then after school 
we could go down there and tend shop, eh?” 

“When we didn’t have to practise.” 


FIRST BASE FAULKNER 


85 


“ That’s so. I’d forgotten practice. Well, on 
Saturdays we could be there all day, eh? That 
would be a lot of fun. I’ve always wanted to be 
a merchant and sell things. ‘Cigars? Yes, sir. 
I think you’ll like these. We make them our- 
selves and know just what goes into them, sir. 
Two for five, please. Thank you, sir. Come 
again if you live!’ That’s the stuff, isn’t it?” 

“Fine!” laughed Joe. “Now let’s go down 
and hear what your father says.” 


CHAPTEB VII 


PARTNERS 

Five days later the news-stand in the lobby of the 
Adams Building was ready for business. 

It had all been extremely simple and easy. Mr. 
Strobe had not only consented to use his influence 
with Mr. Adams, but had declared that he be- 
lieved the investment of thirty dollars in the en- 
terprise to be a good stroke of business. In fact, 
Jack’s father became the most enthusiastic of the 
three that evening when the matter was broached 
to him. If, he said, Jack didn’t want to go into 
partnership with Joe he’d be glad to take a half 
interest himself! A news-stand in the Adams 
Building ought to be a money-maker, and he won- 
dered that someone hadn’t thought of it before. 
Thereupon Joe suggested anxiously that perhaps 
someone had, and wasn’t satisfied until Jack’s 
father had called Mr. Adams up on the telephone 
and ascertained that the privilege had not been 
disposed of and that Mr. Adams was quite willing 
to confer with them tomorrow in the matter. 

86 


FIRST BASE FAULKNER 


87 


Mr. Joseph Adams was president and principal 
owner of the big carpet mills and held title to 
much residence and store property throughout 
the town. He was about forty-two years of age, 
a much younger man than Joe had expected to 
find when, led by Mr. Strobe, they entered his 
office in the new building early the next morning. 
The business was completed in rather less than 
five minutes. Mr. Strobe stated what was wanted, 
Joe answered a question as to proposed location 
of the stand, they all descended to view the spot, 
and Mr. Adams then said: “Pm agreeable. 
Rent free until the first of March. After that, 
eighteen dollars a month. Keep everything clean 
and neat. Come around this afternoon and I’ll 
have a lease ready for you.” 

When they returned at half-past three Mr. 
Adams said: “One thing I neglected to speak 
of, boys. About your counter and showcase, now; 
better let me attend to those, I guess. I don’t 
want anything that clashes with the finish down 
there. I’ve got Mayer coming here in about ten 
minutes. He’s the boss-carpenter. I thought 
we’d decide what was wanted and he could go 
ahead and put it up. The walls are cream white 
down there and I think we’d ought to have the 


88 FIRST BASE FAULKNER 

stand to match. That suit you? What had you 

thought of?” 

“ Mahogany, sir,” replied Joe. “That is, imil“ 
tation mahogany. But I think cream white would 
look better.” 

“I guess so. Now, look here.” Mr. Adams 
drew a sheet of paper towards him and sketched 
roughly. “A row of shelves across to here; slid- 
ing doors at the back ; panelled in front. Then a 
flap counter the rest of the way; lift it up to get 
in, you know; crawl under if you’d rather. Now 
what about shelves at the back? Need them? 
They wouldn’t look well, I guess.” 

‘ ‘ I don ’t think so, ’ ’ replied Joe. “I guess we ’d 
have room for everything on the counter and in 
the showcase. I — I hadn’t thought about a 
showcase, though, Mr. Adams. Won’t it cost a 
good deal?” 

“Twelve dollars and sixty cents. I priced it. 
That needn’t worry you, though; I’m paying for 
the whole thing.” 9 

“Oh!” murmured Joe. “I didn’t under- 
stand. ’ ’ 

“That’s great!” exclaimed Jack. 

Mr. Adams smiled. ‘ 4 Doing it for my own pro- 
tection. I’d rather have something that looked 
solid and substantial there. I don’t want any- 


FIRST BASE FAULKNER 


89 


thing cheap, yon know. Here’s Mayer now,” he 
added as a clerk appeared at the door. “Let’s 
go down and see what’s to be done.” 

Joe thought he had never encountered anyone 
who could rush a thing through as Mr. Adams 
could. It took him about three minutes to ex- 
plain his ideas to the carpenter and when he had 
finished, that gentleman, a taciturn man with a 
long head and a Scotch burr, could suggest no 
improvements. 

“All right, then,” said Mr. Adams briskly. 
“Get right at it, Mayer. Have it done — when do 
you want it, boys'?” 

“Whenever it’s convenient, sir. There’s 


“This is Saturday. Get it done by Wednesday, 
Mayer. See that you get a good dull enamel on 
it, like the walls. Make a good, finished job.” 

The boss-carpenter nodded. Then: “How 
about the light, sir!” he inquired.* 

“Light? That’s so. Ought to be one back of 
the counter. See Purley and Ferris about that 
and tell them to put up a small dome light, same 
design as the others here. That’s all, I guess.” 

A moment later he was being shot upwards in 
an elevator, Mr. Mayer was silently measuring 
with a pocket rule, and Joe and Jack, their lease 


90 FIRST BASE FAULKNER 

in Joe’s pocket, sought the sidewalk. Outside, 
Jack capered gleefully. “ Nearly a month’s rent 
free, Joey,” he exclaimed, “and we don’t have 
to pay for building the stand ! He’s a brick, isn’t 
he?” 

“Yes,” agreed Joe. “I’m wondering ” 

“What?” demanded the other impatiently. 

“Well, we won’t need so much money as we 
thought, you see. I guess we can get started on 
about half of it.” 

“We’ll buy more stock!” 

‘ ‘ N-no, we ’d better start easy, as we agreed to. 
What I was thinking was this, Jack. When I 
said I thought I could get hold of my half the 
money I had Aunt Sarah in mind. I think she’d 
loan me thirty dollars if she had it. But I don’t 
know whether she’d have that much, you see, 
and ” 

Jack interrupted with a laugh. “Not have 
thirty dollars!” he cried. “Why, your Aunt 
Sarah is one of the richest women in Amesville, 
you booby ! Everyone knows that ! ’ ’ 

“She is?” asked Joe in surprise. “I didn’t 
know it. She’s always so — so careful ” 

“Stingy, you mean, don’t you?” laughed Jack. 

“No, I don’t mean that, really. She isn’t a bit 
stingy. She’s just careful. About putting the 


FIRST BASE FAULKNER 


91 


light out when you’re not using it, and bargain- 
ing with the tradespeople, and — and like that, you 
know. Well, anyway, I’d rather not ask her for 
the money. I’d much rather borrow it from you. 
If w T e only need thirty dollars altogether, your 
share would be fifteen and mine would be fifteen. 
Well, if you can take thirty out of the savings 
bank you might put fifteen into the business and 
loan the other fifteen to me at the regular rate 
of interest. Would you be willing to do that? 
No matter whether the business got along or not, 
I’d pay you the fifteen back, of course, because 
I could get it from Aunt Sarah. ’ ’ 

‘ ‘ Sure ! That ’s the ticket ! Only I don ’t want 
any interest, you old Shylock!” 

“I’d rather, though. I’d pay Aunt Sarah in- 
terest, and why not you?” 

Jack was hard to persuade, but Joe ultimately 
got him to agree. “We’ll ask your father about 

it, though. If he says it’s all right ” 

“He will,” laughed Jack. “Dad thinks you’re 
a sort of young Napoleon of Finance, Joey, and 
anything you do is all right. Fact is, I believe 
he’s a bit sore because we didn’t let him in on 
this.” 

During the succeeding four days — with the ex- 
ception of Sunday— the boys spent most of their 


92 FIRST BASE FAULKNER 

spare time in the lobby of the Adams Building 
watching the construction of the news-stand. Mr. 
Mayer called it a “ booth,’ ’ and since they had 
every wish to keep him good-humoured, they 
adopted that name for it themselves. On Tues- 
day morning it was in place and had received its 
first coat of paint. The enamel went on Tuesday 
afternoon and a second coat was to be applied 
two days later. But as the final application could 
be made while business was going on, the boys 
decided to open the stand Wednesday afternoon. 

Joe had already ordered a small assortment of 
package candies, chewing-gum, and such things 
from Cincinnati, had made arrangements with 
the news company for current magazines and cer- 
tain out-of-town papers, had arranged with the 
two Amesville journals for fifty copies to be de- 
livered daily, and had spent the larger part of 
their principal in the purchase of cigars, cigar- 
ettes, and tobacco. Although he brought as little 
of everything as he could, he discovered to his 
dismay that on Wednesday morning he had but 
seven dollars of the original thirty left. I don’t 
think either Joe or Jack did very well at lessons 
that day. It was frightfully hard to keep their 
minds on their school work, so impatient were 
they to get to the stand and start business. Joe 


FIRST BASE FAULKNER 


93 


went over his newspaper route on Tuesday for 
the last time. He had some slight misgivings 
about abandoning that employment, for although 
it brought him but three dollars, the money was 
certain. However, nothing venture, nothing 
have ; and he was pretty certain, too, that he could 
find work again with the Recorder if necessary. 

So just as soon as school was dismissed the two 
boys hurried down town to their place of busi- 
ness, as Jack importantly phrased it. The coun- 
ter shone freshly white and the handsome show- 
case, three feet in length by twenty-two inches in 
breadth, nickel-trimmed, with mirrors set in the 
sliding panels at the back, had been cleaned and 
polished until it was speckless. They raised 
the hinged end of the counter and stepped 
inside. Joe turned a switch and a flood 
of mellow light shone down from the neat 
ground-glass dome above. Many bundles had 
already been unpacked and their contents 
stowed on the shelves under the counter, but 
others awaited them, and they set to work. 
There was not much room between counter and 
wall, but there was enough to move about in. 
The counter was two feet wide, leaving the space 
behind it not quite three feet. The showcase had 
been placed midway between wall and hinged flap 


94 FIRST BASE FAULKNER 

and there was two feet of solid counter on each 
side of it. If necessary they could make use of 
the hinged portion as well and pass under it in- 
stead of lifting it up. But at present there was 
plenty of room for all their goods without avail- 
ing themselves of that section. The shelves un- 
derneath were roomy and the sliding doors were 
supplied with a neat Yale lock. Joe inserted his 
key in it, pushed aside a panel and revealed their 
store of smokers ’ articles. It was a quarter to 
four and they worked busily to get things in shape 
against the time the occupants of the building 
began to leave. They expected to sell no more 
today than a few evening papers, but they wanted 
the public to know that the stand was opened for 
business. 

The cigars and tobacco and cigarettes went into 
the case. J oe had to do a lot of arranging before 
he managed to make them occupy enough of the 
space to satisfy him. Even then the showcase 
looked pretty empty. “We ought to have about 
a dozen boxes of cigars/ ’ he said, “to make a 
showing. I’ll have to spread everything out in 
here or else it will look as if we didn’t have any- 
thing ! ’ 9 

J ack, struggling with a bundle of confectionery 
on the counter, grunted assent. Joe, finally clos- 


FIRST BASE FAULKNER 95 

ing the showcase, pulled out a dozen or so maga- 
zines from underneath and arranged them on the 
counter. Then came the candy, most of it in half- 
pound boxes, and a varied assortment of gum and 
enticing confections put up in tiny tin boxes. 
There was some discussion as to where these 
things should be placed. In the end some were 
put on top the showcase and the rest ranged be- 
tween the magazines and the wall. The space at 
the other side of the case was reserved for news- 
papers and a few minutes later the fifty copies of 
the Recorder arrived, were paid for, and spread 
on the counter. With them were a half-dozen 
copies of morning papers from Cleveland, Co- 
lumbus, Springfield, Sandusky, Cincinnati, and 
Dayton. At last everything was in place and the 
boys emerged into the corridor to view the result. 
It certainly looked attractive and business-like, 
and they were hugely pleased. Joe rearranged 
the boxes of candy so that the colored tops would 
show better and then Jack went back behind the 
counter and between them they distributed the 
price cards. These were small squares or oblongs 
of gray cardboard with black lettering and had 
been done by the man who performed such work 
for Strobe and Wonson. A number of small, 
weighted holders had been purchased — an extrav- 


96 


FIRST BASE FAULKNER 


agance that Joe had resisted at first — and the 
cards were slipped between the wire loops. Jack 
again emerged to view the effect. 

“ Looks swell, doesn’t it?” he asked. Joe 
agreed that it did, and one of the elevator boys, 
who had been an interested observer at intervals, 
now stepped from his car and joined them. He 
was a tall, raw-boned youth of seventeen or 
eighteen, by name Martin Olson, but generally 
known as Ole. Ole had a shock of carroty red 
hair and an unattractive flat face liberally sprin- 
kled with large freckles that matched his hair. 
Neither Joe nor Jack had taken to Ole much, but 
his praise of the news-stand now inclined them 
more favourably toward him. 

“Best looking little shop in town,” he an- 
nounced enthusiastically. “That’s a swell glass 
case you’ve got there, too.” He examined the 
contents. “You ought to have some Dobbins, 
though. Dobbins are the best five-cent smoke 
there is. What kind of cigarettes have you got? 
Uh-huh, I see. There’s lots of fellows in the 
building smokes Scimitars, though. You’d ought 
to lay in some of those, I guess.” 

“We’ll find out pretty quick what’s wanted,” 
replied Joe. “What we should have, though, is 
a lighter. Guess we’d better have some matches 


FIRST BASE FAULKNER 


97 


on the showcase until we can get a lighter. You 
tend shop, J ack, and I ’ll go and get some. ’ ’ When 
he returned from a trip around the corner to 
the nearest grocery Ole had departed, but the 
second elevator attendant had taken his place. 
He was a younger lad, short and stocky and red- 
cheeked, with a wealth of assurance and a line 
command of slang. His name was Walter. There 
was probably more to it, but the boys never 
learned it. Walter was equally complimentary. 

“Some stand, kiddoes, believe me,” he 
affirmed. “All to the cheese. Say, what kind o’ 
cigs do you handle? Got any Moorish Beau- 
ties?” 

“No, we haven’t,” said Jack. 

“You ought to, then. They’re the best. Lots 
o’ fellers smokes Beauties.” 

“We’ve got six sorts there,” laughed Joe, 
“and it seems we haven’t the right ones yet. 
Ole says we ought to keep Scimitars.” 

Walter sniffed. “Huh, they ain’t no good. 
Punk! Beauties is the brand for you. Got any 
novels?” 

“Novels? No. Just magazines.” 

“I mean nickel novels. 4 Dick Dashaway’ and 
‘ Bull’s-Eye Bob’ and them. Ain’t you goin’ to 
have none o’ them?” 


98 


FIRST BASE FAULKNER 


“I think not,” replied Joe drily. “You see, 
if we kept them we might not attend to business 
we’d be so busy reading them.” 

The irony was lost on Walter, however. 
“That’s so. They’re swell novels, take it from 
me. There’s one of ’em — Oh, gee, there’s a guy 
wants to be dropped!” And Walter disgustedly 
returned to his car, slammed the door and shot 
upward. 

“What time is it?” asked Jack. “My watch 
has stopped.” 

“Nearly half-past four,” replied Joe. “I 
wonder who will be our first customer.” 

“Maybe there won’t be one! Say, we’ve for- 
gotten the money box.” 

“I know. But we don’t need to put that out 
except when we’re not here. We — we might see 
how it looks, though.” 

Joe went behind, produced a japanned tin box 
with a slot in the lid and a small brass padlock 
on the hasp and set it on the showcase. On the 
front of the box was printed in white letters: 
“Help yourself and drop the money here.” 

“How does it look?” he asked. 

“All right. But, say, Joey, wouldn’t it be a 
joke if someone absent-mindedly walked off with 
the box some day?” 


FIRST BASE FAULKNER 99 

“The funniest kind of a joke!” 

“How would it do to chain it?” continued 
Jack. 

“Well, it would look a bit funny, wouldn’t it, 
to trust folks as to put their money in the box 
and then chain the box down?” 

“I don’t see ” began Jack. But just then 

an elevator descended, the door opened, and out 
walked Mr. Adams. 

“Ready for business, eh, boys? Well, you look 
very nice, very nice, indeed. Hm; cigars, cigar- 
ettes, magazines, candy — quite a stock of goods. 
Got any Vista de Isla cigars? I see you haven’t, 
though. It might pay you to keep a box, boys. 
I run out of them now and then and I might as 
well get them from you as send around to the 
club for them. Well, I’ll take a Recorder , I 
guess. Have to patronise home industries, you 
know. ’ ’ 

Mr. Adams laid down his two pennies and took 
a paper from the pile. Then : 

“Hello,” he said, “you’ve got the Springfield 
paper, eh? Good idea. I’ll take that. And 
Cleveland and Cincinnati and — Well, you’re en- 
terprising! Are these today’s? Guess I’ll take 
the Cincinnati paper, too. Will you have these 
regularly ? ’ ’ 


100 FIRST BASE FAULKNER 

‘ 1 Yes, sir, and others besides; Chicago and 
Pittsburg and probably New York.” 

Mr. Adams viewed Joe curiously across the 
counter. “You ought to get on, my boy,” he said 
finally as he counted out an additional ten cents. 
“You’re the first person in this city ever thought 
of keeping a Chicago paper. I don’t know that 
you’ll ever sell one, but you certainly deserve to. 
Business good so far!” 

“Well,” replied Joe, with a twinkle, “we’ve 
sold three newspapers for twelve cents.” - 

“Eh? Oh, then I’m the first customer, am I? 
Quite an honour, I’m sure. I’ll have to continue 
my patronage, boys. Good luck to you and good- 
night.” 

A few minutes later the exodus from the build- 
ing began and no one passed out of the building 
without pausing to look at the news-stand, 
whether he purchased or not. But many did pur- 
chase. The pile of evening papers went fast and 
long before the building had emptied itself Joe 
had to make a hurried trip down to the Recorder 
Building and get a new supply. Several sales of 
cigars and cigarettes were made as well, while 
a young lady typewriter smilingly purchased a 
box of candy. The only department of the estab- 
lishment not patronised was the magazine de- 


FIRST BASE FAULKNER 


101 


partment, and when, at six, they closed up shop 
for the night, Jack remedied that by buying a 
copy of a monthly devoted to scientific achieve- 
ments. 

Before they went they counted their receipts 
and found that they totalled three dollars and 
ten cents. Just how much of that amount repre- 
sented profit they could not reckon off-hand, but 
they were very well satisfied with the result of a 
little more than an hour’s business. After every- 
thing had been stowed away under the counter 
and locked up for the night the partners took 
themselves off, arm in arm, looking as much as 
possible like prosperous merchants. 


CHAPTER VIII 


MR. CHESTER YOUNG 

The Adams Building News Stand prospered 
from the first. There was never a doubtful mo- 
ment. On Thursday business started off with a 
rush and when, just before half-past eight, Joe 
and Jack had to hurry unwillingly away to 
school, even Joe, now the more pessimistic of the 
two, had to acknowledge that success seemed as- 
sured. After school they flew back again to dis- 
cover that the stand was well-nigh exhausted of 
aught save magazines and that even those were 
half gone ! They had placed what they supposed 
to be a sufficient supply of cigars, cigarettes, and 
tobacco on top of the case, but one cigar-box was 
utterly empty, another held but three cigars, all 
but two packages of cigarettes had disappeared, 
and the candy was down to the final layer of 
boxes! The morning papers had been pretty 
nearly sold out before they had left, and so the 
sight of the empty counter to the left of the show- 
case produced no surprise. But the inroad made 
102 


FIRST BASE FAULKNER 


103 


on the rest of their stock brought gasps of aston- 
ishment. An awful fear assailed the partners 
and with one accord they grabbed at the cash- 
box. But its weight and the pleasant clinking 
sound it gave out reassured them, and when, 
after they had taken account of stock and had 
reckoned up the contents of the box, they dis- 
covered that not only had every purchase been 
honestly paid for, but that someone had dropped 
in five cents too much, they viewed each other 
triumphantly. 

“ Eight dollars and fifty-five cents !” exclaimed 
Jack awedly. “What do you know about that? 
And it ’s not four o ’clock yet ! ’ ’ 

“What’s troubling me,” replied Joe happily, 
“is how we are to stock up again by morning! 
We can get the cigars, all right, but we’ve got 
to have more candy and it takes a day or two to 
get that. And the magazines are more than half 
gone, too.” 

“Couldn’t we telegraph to Cincinnati for the 
candy?” 

“Yes, but I guess we’d better buy some here 
meanwhile. ’ ’ 

“But there won’t be any profit on it!” wailed 
Jack. 

“No, but we can’t help that. We’ve got to 


104 FIRST BASE FAULKNER 

keep the stock up. We’ll telegraph the Cincin- 
nati folks to send fifty pounds this time.” 

“ Fifty!” exclaimed Jack doubtfully. ‘ 4 Isn’t 
that a lot!” 

“Yes, but we’ve sold five pounds already and 
we don’t want to have to order oftener than a 
week. The way they pack it, it keeps fresh for 
a long time. Maybe it would be a good idea 
to put in a few pound boxes of a better 
grade. Guess I’d better go around to the 
cigar folks now and get a couple more boxes. 
What was that brand that Mr. Adams men- 
tioned ! ’ ’ 

“Mister Dyler, or something like that,” 
answered Jack. “I didn’t get it.” 

“Neither did I. But I guess they’ll know what 
I’m after. And we ought to have some more 
magazines, I suppose, if only for show. It’s 
most time for the March numbers to come out, 
though, and we don’t want to overstock on the 
February. I’ll telephone to the news company 
and ask them to send a half-dozen with the out- 
of-town papers. I’d better hurry, too, or they’ll 
be here. Where is the nearest telephone! Look 
here, Jack, Mr. Adams ought to have a public 
booth down here in the lobby.” 

“That’s so. It would be sort of handy for us, 


FIRST BASE FAULKNER 105 

wouldn’t it? Do you suppose he would if we 
asked him?” 

“I don’t know, but I’m not afraid to ask. 
Maybe, though, we could afford one of our own.” 

“At thirty-six dollars a year? You must be 
crazy ! ’ ’ 

“Is that what it costs? How about a two- 

party line? Or ” Joe stopped and regarded 

his partner thoughtfully. 

“Out with it!” demanded Jack. 

“Why couldn’t we have a public ’phone — one 
of those drop-a-nickel affairs, you know, and set 
it here by the wall? I wouldn’t be surprised if 
we made enough to get our own calls for noth- 
ing.” 

“We might,” agreed Jack hesitantly. “How 
much would we have to pay the telephone com- 
pany?” 

“I don’t know. Tomorrow I’ll go around 
there and ask. Well, I’m off. Pay the news com- 
pany when they come. And pay for the 
Recorders , too. I’ll be back as soon as I can.” 

“Why don’t you go across to the store?” 
asked Jack. “The telephone’s in the outer 
office. Just tell them I said you were to use it.” 

“Too cheeky. I’d rather pay for the call my- 
self. Out of the firm’s money!” he added laugh- 


106 FIRST BASE FAULKNER 

ingly as he disappeared through the revolving 

doors. 

He was back some twenty minutes later. 
“Anything doing ?” he asked as he deposited two 
bundles on the counter. 

“Lots,” replied Jack. “I sold two cigars, a 
package of cigarettes, one Recorder , and a box 
of these mints. And I paid for the evening 
papers and a dollar and twelve cents to the news 
company. ’ 9 

“Did you put down what you’d paid out?” 

“No. Should I?” 

“If you don’t we’ll get all mixed up. I’ve got 
a small blankbook here and I guess we’d better 
start in and keep a careful account of everything. 
What papers did the news company bring?” 

“All sorts. There’s one from New York. 
We’ll never sell that, Joey.” 

“I don’t believe we will, but it doesn’t matter. 
After a week or so we’ll find out just what papers 
we can sell, and how many, and then we ’ll confine 
ourselves to those. They brought the magazines 
I asked them to? Oh, I see. All right. Things 
begin to look a bit more business-like again. 
Undo this candy, will you, while I get the cigars 
out. By the way, what do you think? That cigar 
that Mr. Adams smokes is called Vista de Isla 


FIRST BASE FAULKNER 107 

and it costs seventeen dollars and twenty cents a 
hundred ! ’ ’ 

‘‘Great Scott! You didn’t buy any, I hope?” 

“Twenty-five; four dollars and thirty cents. 
Here they are.” 

“Well, but, say, Joey, that’s pretty steep! 
Suppose he doesn’t buy any?” 

“He will. He said he would. And the chap 
who sold these says we must have a wet sponge 
in the case to keep the cigars moist. So I got 
one. Also a five-cent glass dish to put it in. Run 
upstairs and get it wet, will you, while I arrange 
these?” 

“All right. How much do those cigars sell for 
apiece, Joey?” 

“The man said twenty-five cents, but I don’t 
suppose Mr. Adams pays that much at his club 
for them. I thought I’d ask him. We can sell 
them at twenty cents and still make a good 
profit. ’ ’ 

‘ ‘ Twenty-five cents ! ’ ’ murmured J ack. ‘ ‘ Think 
of paying that much for one cigar! And they 
don’t look much, either.” 

“You happen to be looking at the ten-centers,” 
laughed Joe. “The others are here.” He 
opened the lid of the flat box and revealed a row 
of greenish-black cigars quite different from the 


108 FIRST BASE FAULKNER 
others in appearance and aroma. “I guess these 
are something extra, eh?” 

4 ‘ Must be, but I think anyone’s a chump to pay 
a quarter for a cigar,” responded Jack. 
“ Where’s your old sponge?” 

Business that evening was brisk and the sev- 
enty-five copies of the Recorder disappeared like 
magic and Jack had to hurry out on the sidewalk 
and buy extra copies from a newsboy. i ‘Tomor- 
row we ’ll get a hundred, ’ ’ said Joe. “ If we don ’t 
sell them they can go back.” By closing time 
three dollars and thirty-four cents had been 
added to the amount in the box, swelling the total 
sales for the day to over fourteen dollars ! 

That evening, in Jack’s room, they tried to 
figure their profits. They had taken in in the 
two days exactly seventeen dollars and forty-four 
cents. Since, however, they had not been able to 
enter each sale as made, it was difficult to arrive 
at the desired result. They knew that on each 
morning or afternoon paper they made a profit 
of one cent, that on each half-pound box of candy 
they made eight cents, that magazines netted 
from four to six cents, and that cigars, cigarettes, 
and tobacco sold for from ten to twenty-five per 
cent, above cost. After much figuring they came 
to the conclusion that their profits were repre- 


FIRST BASE FAULKNER 109 

sented by about one-quarter of the amount taken 
in, or practically four dollars and thirty cents. 

“And at that rate,” said Joe, “we ought to 
make a monthly profit of about one hundred and 
twelve dollars!” 

Jack stared unbelievingly. Then his face fell. 
“But we’ve got to pay the rent out of that,” he 
mourned. 

Joe laughed. “You’re getting to be a regu- 
lar Shylock, old man ! The rent is only eighteen 
and that leaves us ninety-four. And besides that 
we haven’t to pay any this month.” 

Jack brightened again. “That makes forty- 
seven dollars a month for each of us, doesn’t it? 
And that’s nearly twelve dollars a week! Joey, 
we ’ll be millionaires before we know it ! ” 

“Well, it pays better than carrying that news- 
paper route! Another thing, Jack; there’s no 
reason why we shouldn’t do better as time goes 
on. We can keep other things, you know, like 
post-cards and — Look here, why not get a good 
line of Amesville views?” 

“Views? What sort of views?” 

“Why, you know; the City Hall and First 
Presbyterian Church and the Adams Building, 
of course, and City Park and all the rest of 
the show places. Have them made into post- 


110 FIRST RASE FAULKNER 
cards, I mean. There’s a firm in Detroit that’ll 
print them for us, and they don’t cost much of 
anything. ’ ’ 

“Sounds all right. I guess there are lots of 
things we could sell that we haven’t thought of 
yet.” 

“There’s one thing I’d like to do,” said Joe 
thoughtfully, “and that’s have a special brand 
of cigars made for us. That is, we don’t have 
them made for us exactly. We just select a good 
brand and then the factory puts a special label 
on them. See what I mean? ‘ Adams Building 
Perf ecto ’ or something like that. If we got a real 
good quality, Jack, and sort of pushed it we 
might get quite a trade. As far as I can see 
there’s no reason why we should depend on the 
folks in the building for our trade. If we carry 
things people want they will come in from out- 
side for them. It’s just as easy to drop into the 
Adams Building lobby as it is to go into a regular 
store. We might run an advertisement in the 
paper after we get ahead a bit. ‘Try the Adams 
Building Perfecto, the best ten-cent smoke in the 
city. Sold at the Adams Building News- 
Stand.’ ” 

“You can think of a lot of ways to spend our 
profits,” said Jack sadly. 


FIRST BASE FAULKNER 111 

“Advertising pays,” replied Joe. “Anyway, 
we haven’t fairly started yet, Jack. You wait 
until we’ve been there a couple of months and 
I’ll wager our sales will be double what they were 
today. For one thing, the building isn’t filled 
yet. There are lots of offices still vacant. Every 
time one is let we get one or two or maybe a half- 
dozen prospective customers. Come to think of 
it, Jack, there’s no reckoning that, for it isn’t 
only the folks who occupy offices in the building 
who will trade with us, but the folks who have 
business in the building, folks who come in and 
out. I’d like to know, just for fun, how many 
go through that door every day. Bet you there’s 
nearly five hundred of them, or will be when the 
offices are all rented! Suppose, now, that only 
one out of ten stopped and bought from us, and 
that they only spent five cents apiece. That 
would be — fifty times five — two dollars and a half 
right there, besides our regular trade. And I 
guess they’d average nearer ten cents apiece 
than five, too.” 

“How much,” asked Jack, “would we have to 
pay a clerk to tend the stand for us?” 

“I’ve thought of that,” replied Joe, “and I 
guess we could get a young chap for about six 
dollars a week.” 


112 * 


FIRST BASE FAULKNER 


“The fellow we’d get for that price wouldn’t 
be worth having,” said Jack sensibly. “I think 
it would pay us, perhaps not just now, but after 
we ’d got going well, to hire a real clerk and pay 
him ten dollars a week ; some fellow who had sold 
cigars and things like that and who could make 
sales; talk things up, you know, and hustle.” 

“I guess you’re right,” answered Joe, after a 
moment’s thought. “And I believe it would pay 
us to do that. I dare say there will be times when 
folks won’t have just the right change with them 
and we’ll lose sales. Besides, when we get to 
playing baseball we won’t either of us be able to 
be at the stand except just for a few minutes in 
the morning and evening. Well, we don’t have 
to think of that quite yet.” 

“Indeed, we do, though, Joey. In another 
week we ’ll be staying in the cage until five o ’clock 
or so. Of course, that scheme of putting folks 
on their honor has worked all right so far, and 
I don’t say it wouldn’t always work, but some- 
one’s got to be at the stand to receive the papers 
and pay for them.” 

“We might have a monthly account with the 
papers and the news company,” said Joe 
thoughtfully. “I guess they’d be willing. Still, 
you’re right, Jack. We’ll start out and see if we 


FIRST BASE FAULKNER 113 

can find a clerk. How would it do to advertise ! ’ ’ 

“I suppose that’s the only way. Or, hold on, 
why not look at the advertisements! Some fel- 
low may be advertising right now for a job like 
this. I’ll go down and get the paper and we’ll 
have a look.” 

They found nothing promising that evening, 
but two days later they did, and in response to 
their reply, left at the Recorder office, Mr. Ches- 
ter Young called on them Sunday afternoon. Mr. 
Young was a well-dressed, dapper youth of 
twenty-one or -two who consumed cigarettes 
voluminously and had a pair of somewhat shifty 
black eyes. The boys didn’t fancy his person- 
ality much, but he convinced them that he knew 
how to sell goods and presented recommenda- 
tions from a former employer in Youngstown 
that read extremely well. They dismissed the 
applicant with a promise to let him hear defi- 
nitely from them on Tuesday, and Mr. Chester 
Young, tucking his bamboo cane under his arm, 
took himself smilingly out. 

“What do you think!” asked Jack when the 
front door had closed. 

“I think,” replied Joe, “that I wouldn’t trust 
that chap around the corner.” 

“Me, too. But he looks smart, doesn’t he!” 


114 FIRST BASE FAULKNER 

“Yes. I think he’d be just the fellow for us 
if — How much does a small cash register cost?” 

“Search me! But if we had one of those ” 

“Yes, I guess Mr. Chester Young wouldn’t 
have much chance to get absent-minded with the 
cash. First of all, though, we’d better get that 
man he worked for on the long distance and see 
what he has to say about Chester. Then, if it’s 
all right, we can price a cash register. I suppose 
we could get one for twenty-five dollars, don’t 
you?” 

“I should hope so! Where ’d we get the 
twenty-five?” 

“We’ll have it in another day or two. We’re 
pretty well stocked up now and won’t need to 
buy much for a week, I guess. I wish, though, 
that Mr. Chester Young could look you in the eye 
for more than a thousandth part of a second ! ’ ’ 

“So do I. And did you see the number of 
cigarettes he smoked in the time he was here? 
Do you suppose he’d help himself from stock?” 

“If he did there wouldn’t be any stock very 
long,” laughed Joe. “Let’s go through the ad- 
vertisements in today’s paper again and see if 
we missed any. Seems to me there must be more 
fellows than Mr. Chester Young looking for 
work. ’ ’ 


FIRST BASE FAULKNER 


115 


“Yes, but most of them want to be book- 
keepers or chauffeurs. We may want a chauf- 
feur some day, but not quite yet, and as for a 
book-keeper ’ 9 

“We need one, but can’t afford him,” ended 
Joe. “You’re right. There’s nothing here. I 
guess Chester’s the only thing in sight.” 

Five days later Mr. Chester Young was in- 
stalled behind the counter in the Adams Building 
and at his elbow reposed a neat cash register. 
The former employer of Mr. Chester Young had 
reported most favourably on that gentleman; in- 
deed, to hear him one could not help wondering 
why he had deprived himself of Mr. Young’s 
services! Joe left the telephone booth rather 
puzzled, but there seemed no good reason for 
doubting the Youngstown man’s veracity, and 
they decided after some hesitation to give the 
applicant a trial — if they could find a cash regis- 
ter they could afford to buy! Fortune favoured 
them. The proprietor of a fruit store whose 
business was expanding had one to sell and they 
closed the bargain with him at seventeen dollars, 
thereby securing a machine that had originally 
cost forty-five. 

Mr. Chester Young started out well. The sales 
during his first day at the stand were better than 


116 


FIRST BASE FAULKNER 


for any other day, and neither J oe nor J ack could 
see that the supply of cigarettes had fallen off 
unduly. Perhaps, as Jack pointed out, this was 
because they did not carry the kind affected by 
their clerk! They did not find that Mr. Young 
improved much on acquaintance, but since he was 
attending to business and seemed to take a genu- 
ine interest in the venture they tried to be fair 
to him and to like him. In any event, it was lucky 
that they had found someone to tend shop, for on 
the fifteenth day of the month Captain Sam Craig 
called the baseball candidates together in the 
cage in the basement of the school building, and 
for a long time after neither Joe nor his partner 
had much leisure to devote to their business ven- 
ture. 


CHAPTER IX 


IN THE BASEBALL CAGE 

The High School building stood by itself in the 
centre of a block in the newer residence district 
of Amesville. It was a handsome structure of 
mottled, yellow-brown brick and sandstone, four 
stories in height. On the top floor was a large 
hall used for meetings and for morning drill. 
When, some six years before, the building had 
been planned those in charge of the work had 
believed that in providing that hall and supply- 
ing it with a modest amount of gymnastic para- 
phernalia they were providing liberally and for 
all time. To their surprise, no sooner was the 
building occupied than demands came for addi- 
tional contrivances, and no sooner had those de- 
mands been satisfied than that troublesome body, 
the Alumni Association, put forth a plea for a 
baseball cage in the basement! It was over a 
year before the cage materialised, and another 
year before shower-baths and lockers were in- 
stalled, but at the time of our story those things 
were long-established facts and youthful Ames- 
117 


118 FIRST BASE FAULKNER 

ville was deriding the cage as too small and the 
shower-baths as out of style ! 

The basement of the school building was but 
half underground, and numerous windows sup- 
plied light on one side and one end of the cage. 
But in February the days were still short and 
the light did not last long, especially when, as on 
the fifteenth, the sun was hidden by dull clouds. 
Since, however, the first week of baseball practice 
was confined to setting-up exercises and dumb- 
bell work, light was not of great consequence. 

Exactly thirty-two boys reported that after- 
noon at a quarter to four in the cage. Of this 
number some fourteen or fifteen were holdovers 
from last season’s First and Second Teams, fel- 
lows like Sam Craig, “Buster” Healey, Sidney 
Morris, Toby Williams, Gordon Smith, and Jack 
Strobe. Tom Pollock was not present, since his 
duties at the store in which he was employed fre- 
quently kept him from participation in prelim- 
inary work. The coach, Mr. Talbot, was a wide- 
awake-looking man of some twenty-eight years, 
a former high school player and now a lawyer 
who, in spite of a growing practice, found time 
every year to take the baseball players in hand. 
Today Mr. Talbot gathered the candidates to- 
gether and spoke energetically and to the point. 


FIRST BASE FAULKNER 119 

“Fm sorry not to see more candidates,’ ’ he 
said. “Some of the fellows think that they can 
keep away until we get outdoors and then report. 
Well, they can, but I give them fair warning that 
they will find themselves handicapped. This in- 
door work isn’t designed just to keep you fellows 
out of mischief in the afternoons. It’s real stuff. 
It’s important. You can’t go out on the field and 
make any sort of a showing if your muscles are 
bound. That’s what this indoor practice is for, 
to limber up your muscles, train your eye, get 
your brain working. Some few of you have been 
playing hockey, and that’s good preparation for 
what’s ahead, but most of you haven’t done a 
thing since last Fall and your muscles are tied 
up in knots. First thing, then, is to get so you 
can use them without hurting them, and so, be- 
fore you touch a baseball or a bat, you’ll have a 
week — maybe two — of setting-up drill and dumb- 
bell exercises, and, now and then, a run outdoors 
when the ground gets in shape. It isn’t interest- 
ing, I know, but it’s necessary, and every one of 
you can help yourself a lot if you’ll keep in mind 
all the time that what you’re doing you’re doing 
for a purpose and not just to pass the time. 
When you stretch a muscle I want you to keep 
your mind on that. Don’t merely go through the 


120 FIRST BASE FAULKNER 

motions thinking about the moving picture show 
you saw last night or wondering how soon you 11 
get through. Put your mind on what you’re do- 
ing. Say to yourself, ‘I’m flexing these muscles 
to make them strong and supple.’ It will tell 
later on. If you don’t believe me, ask the fellows 
who have tried it before. Now I’ll ask you to 
form in lines across the floor, just as you do 
upstairs for morning drill. That’s the idea. I 
guess most of you know the drill. Those who 
don’t will watch me and learn it. All right, fel- 
lows. Attention ! 

“I can see that a good many of you don’t know 
the position called for. It’s the position of the 
soldier. I supposed you learned that in morning 
drill. Heels on a line, now, and close together, 
and feet turned out at an angle of forty-five de- 
grees. Knees straight, but not locked. Stand 
straight from the hips. Put your shoulders back, 
arching your chest a little. Let your arms hang 
naturally, elbows back, hands slightly to the rear 
of the trousers seam. Some of you look as if you 
were frozen. Get out of it ! Ease up ! You, third 
from the left in the second row, relax a little. 
That’s better. Now, then, heads erect, chins in, 
eyes ahead. There you are. Probably some of 
you are finding the position a bit uncomfortable, 


FIRST BASE FAULKNER 121 

which shows that you need just the exercise 
you’re going to get here. First exercise, fellows. 
Remaining at attention, bend the head back as 
far as it will go and then forward. Exer- 
cise ! One — two — three — four — five — six — seven — 
eight! Attention! Now, from side to side, keep- 
ing the neck muscles tense. First to the right as 
far as you can comfortably go and then to the 
left. Exercise ! Right — left — right — left — right 
— left — right — left ! Attention ! 

4 4 Keep your stomach in, Williams. That’s 
better. Second exercise, fellows. Raise your 
arms in front of you, palms down. Now stretch 
them sidewise, turning the palms up, keeping the 
muscles tense always. Exercise! One — two — 
three — four — five — six — seven — eight ! Attenton ! 
Now relax the muscles and swing the arms back- 
ward and forward like this. Exercise! . . . 

Now your shoulders. Muscles tense. Move them 
forward, then up, then back, then down into posi- 
tion again. Get that? Try it. Exercise! One — 
two ” 

And so it went for thirty minutes, until, in 
spite of numerous brief intervals of rest, more 
than half of those present were out of breath 
and aching in all sorts of unaccustomed places! 
Joe, for one, had never realised that he had so 


122 FIRST BASE FAULKNER 

many muscles in his body as were called into play 
this afternoon! The exercises ended with the 
body-lift while lying face-downwards, and by 
that time even the more seasoned of the candi- 
dates were ready to quit. Mr. Talbot viewed the 
flushed faces with satisfaction. 

“That’s all for today. Tomorrow we’ll try 
more. After that we’ll use the bells. Now give 
your names to Mifflin — Oh, he isn’t here! Well, 
I’ll take them. After that get under the shower 
and don’t stand around too much. It’s easy to 
take cold when your pores are open. Tomorrow 
we’ll start promptly at four. Try not to be late, 
please. Names, now.” 

So it went every afternoon for a week. A half- 
dozen more martyrs joined the squad in that 
space of time. Gradually some of the first exer- 
cises were eliminated from the programme and 
the dumb-bell drill took their place. That dumb- 
bell work certainly gave surprising results, as 
Joe confided to Jack one evening as they hurried 
from school to the Adams Building. “I can turn 
my wrists in all sorts of ways,” laughed Joe. 
“They’re beginning to feel as if they didn’t have 
any bones in them!” 

“A few days ago I felt as if I didn’t have any- 
thing but bones,” replied Jack. “We’re almost 


FIRST BASE FAULKNER 


123 


through with this business, thank goodness. If 
the weather is all right about Saturday morning 
you’ll see us loping across the landscape, Joey. 
Bat is foxy about that.” Jack chuckled. ‘ ‘He 
always has a press of business when it comes to 
taking a hike ! ’ ’ 

“So would I if I was coaching,” laughed Joe. 
“Wonder if he wouldn’t like me to stay behind 
and help him ! ’ ’ 

“Ask him! I dare you to!” 

Jack’s prediction proved right. On Thursday 
of that week the weather turned warm and windy 
and the ground, which had been like a wet sponge, 
dried so that it was possible to set foot to it 
without going in to the ankle. Sam Craig took 
charge and, lightly attired, the squad followed 
him over the better part of a two-mile journey 
that led across fields and over walls and, finally, 
back to town by the road. They alternated walk- 
ing with jogging, but there was no let-up save 
for some five or six fellows who gave out before 
the romp was over. On the following Monday 
the first baseball appeared in the cage, and after 
a short setting-up drill and a brief session with 
the wooden dumb-bells the candidates were lined 
up on opposite sides of the cage and the ball was 
passed from side to side. 


124 FIRST BASE FAULKNER 

“ Swing your arms, fellows,' ’ instructed the 
coach. “Act as though you were going to throw 
the hall over the building. Get all your muscles 
into play. Don’t hurry it, Smith. Slow and easy. 
That’s the idea. I want you all to get so you can 
put the hall squarely into the next fellow’s 
hands without making him move out of place 
for it.” 

Later two more balls were started going, and 
then the idea was to pass hack and forth as 
quickly as possible, trying to catch the other fel- 
lows unawares. That was fun, and the cage was 
soon ringing with laughter. Mr. Talbot, taking 
his place at one side of the floor, enjoyed it as 
much as any of them. A few days after that the 
battery candidates were given a half-hour to 
themselves and practice for the rest began at 
four-fifteen. Occasionally Tom Pollock reported 
and pitched to Sam Craig or to Jack Speyer, who 
was slated as Sam’s understudy. With Tom in 
the pitching practice were Toby Williams and 
Carl Moran. Toby Williams was an able substi- 
tute for Tom, hut Moran, who was only sixteen, 
had a lot to learn. Joe frequently went early to 
the cage and watched the pitching staff at work, 
and his admiration for Tom Pollock increased 
vastly as he noted the ease and certainty with 


FIRST BASE FAULKNER 125 

which that youth shot the ball into Sam Craig’s 
waiting glove. 

Batting practice began about the first of March. 
A net was stretched near the further end of the 
cage and the candidates took turns facing either 
Williams or Moran; infrequently, Tom Pollock. 
They were supposed to merely tap the ball, but 
sometimes they became over-eager and the sphere 
would go crashing into the iron netting at the 
other end of the cage and the pitcher, arising 
from the floor, would pathetically request the 
batters to “Cut out the slugging!” 

One or two of the early volunteers dropped out 
of the squad for one reason or another and their 
places were taken by newcomers. By the first 
week in March, at which time, if the spring was 
a normal one, they usually got out of doors, the 
baseball candidates were in hard and fit condi- 
tion. Already Coach Talbot was able to form a 
fairly correct idea of the possibilities of most of 
the forty-one or -two fellows who now comprised 
the squad. George Mifflin, the manager, was cus- 
todian of a mysterious book, in which, opposite 
the various names, was set down much interest- 
ing information which the fellows would have 
given much to read. In this, at Bat’s command, 
Mifflin set down each day little marks and figures 


126 FIRST BASE FAULKNER 

after the names, memoranda practically under- 
standable by Bat alone. Now and then came one 
of those cross-country jaunts — there were five of 
them that season — and now and then the squad 
was taken outside, where the footing was not 
too soft, and allowed to throw and catch. But 
with these exceptions, no outdoor work was in- 
dulged in until the second week in March, for on 
the fifth a miniature blizzard swept down the val- 
ley, undoing the good work performed by a fort- 
night of mild weather and drying winds. That 
blizzard had a lot of harsh things said about it. 
It was probably as unpopular a visitation of snow 
and sleet and ice and, subsequently, rain and 
slush as ever visited Amesville! But there was 
nothing for it but to wait for better conditions 
and, in the meanwhile, continue the drudgery of 
indoor practice, a drudgery that had grown dis- 
tasteful to everyone by this time. 

Joe firmly believed that the work in the cage 
had done him a lot of good, even aside from the 
matter of physical conditioning. He had found 
that he could meet the ball in front of the batting 
net and roll it across the floor about as often as 
most of the fellows, and he was perhaps more im- 
patient than any of them to get out on the turf 
and discover whether his hitting ability had 


FIRST BASE FAULKNER 


127 


really improved. Jack, himself a clever batter, 
predicted that Joe was destined to become one 
of the team’s best hitters that Spring. 

“You’ve got it all over ‘ Handsome Frank’ 
already,” Jack declared. “If you can cover 
the bag half as well as he can you’ll stand 
a James H. Dandy chance to cop that position, 
Joey.” 

“Foley’s been doing fully as well as I have at 
the net,” responded Joe doubtfully. “I don’t 
believe I can beat him out, Jack. He looks like a 
pretty good player. He’s built for a first base- 
man, too, with his height and reach and — and 
everything. ’ ’ 

“Well, I don’t see that he’s got so terribly 
much on you in height, old man. And as for 
reach, why, even if your arms aren ’t quite as long 
as his, you’re a lot spryer on your pins. You’ve 
got a mighty nice, easy way of pulling them in 
to you, Joey. I hope you make it, that’s all I 
hope.” 

“So do I, but, as I say, Foley ” 

“Oh, Foley’s no wonder, after all. That’s 
what you want to get into that solid ivory dome 
of yours. You’ve begun to think that you can’t 
beat him; that’s your trouble. What you want 
to do is to make up your mind that you’re better 


128 FIRST BASE FAULKNER 

than he is and that he’s got to prove the con- 
trary. That’s the way I beat out Joe Kenney, 
last year. Joe had been holding down the job 
for two years when I got it into my head that 
I’d like to play out there in the left garden. So 
I said to myself, said I : 'Jack, you may not think 
it now, but you’re a perfectly marvellous left 
fielder, one of the best, regular first chop, what- 
ever that is! Try and accustom yourself to the 
fact and hold your head up and stick your chest 
out. And if anyone asks you don’t hesitate to 
tell them.’ Well, sir, in a little while I had my- 
self hypnotised into acting like a regular fielder ! 
When I’d meet Kenney I’d look at him pityingly 
and say to myself, 'You poor old has-been, you 
haven’t the ghost of a chance this spring. I’m 
sorry for you, but it’s my turn.’ I got to believ- 
ing it, and so did Kenney! About the middle of 
the season Kenney was sitting on the bench and 
I was -pulling ’em down out there. Of course, a 
slight ability to hit the ball now and then had 
something to do with it, but a lot of it was 
just conning myself into thinking I was the real 
goods. You try it, Joey. It’s a great little 
trick. ’ ’ 

"You’re a silly ape,” laughed Joe. "The 
reason you ousted the other chap was because you 


FIRST BASE FAULKNER 129 

batted around three hundred and he didn’t. If 
I bat over two hundred I’ll be doing well.” 

“Of course, you will! How many on the team 
last year hit for over that, do you suppose? I 
don’t believe there were four altogether. Two 
hundred, say you, slightingly! Two hundred’s 
good batting for chaps of our age, and don’t for- 
get it. And my average last year wasn’t three 
hundred; it was two-ninety- three. I want credit 
for those seven points you stuck on!” 

“Foley doesn’t like me,” observed Joe after a 
moment’s silence. “You can see that.” 

“Why should he?” Jack demanded. “Don’t 
you suppose he knows that you’re after his place 
and that you stand a pretty good chance of get- 
ting it? What do you expect him to do? Hug 
you?” 

“No, but — Oh, well, let’s forget it. I wish, 
though, we could get out of doors. When do you 
suppose we will?” 

“In exactly four days,” responded Jack with- 
out hesitation. “You see if I’m not right. Pre- 
dicting ’s the easiest thing I do.” 

The prediction proved correct. 


CHAPTER X 


STRIKING A BALANCE 

It is not to be supposed that devotion to baseball 
dulled the partners’ interest in their business 
venture. That was still absorbingly exciting. 
Every morning at a little before eight either Joe 
or Jack, or sometimes both of them, went to the 
Adams Building and superintended the opening 
of the stand for the day’s business. The counter 
was dressed with its magazines and boxes of con- 
fections and newspapers, the cash register set up 
and unlocked, and business was talked over with 
Young. In the afternoon, usually a little after 
five, both boys returned and Young, giving an 
account of his stewardship, went off. Young had 
turned out very satisfactorily and his employers 
were a little ashamed of their suspicions regard- 
ing his integrity. It only proved, Joe declared, 
that it didn’t pay to judge a fellow by his looks. 
Young was a smart salesman, polite in an off- 
hand way, and, so far at least, had neither caused 
shrinkage in the cigarette stock or made away 
with a penny of cash. Consequently both Joe and 
130 


FIRST BASE FAULKNER 


131 


Jack tried to be friendly with him. That they 
couldn’t quite succeed was not for the want of 
trying. There was just one thing that they found 
objections to, and that was the fact that the news- 
stand was fast becoming a favourite loafing place 
for a number of the town’s “sports,” men and 
boys of about Young’s age who had no apparent 
occupation save that of smoking cigarettes. 
They had spoken to Young and he had agreed to 
do what he could to keep the fellows away, but 
matters did not seem to mend and the partners 
daily feared to receive a protest from Mr. 
Adams. 

Meanwhile the stand had branched out into new 
avenues of trade. The “Adams Building Cigar” 
had appeared on the market and had met with 
favour and rapidly increasing sales. A small ad- 
vertisement in the morning and evening papers 
had drawn attention to the cigar and to the news- 
stand and the latter was no longer dependent on 
the occupants of the building alone for patronage. 
The little shop became a popular place and trade 
increased until, especially during the noon hour, 
it was all Young could do to attend to customers. 

A week or so after they had started in business 
they had been called on by a young man who had 
proclaimed himself rather importantly to be a 


132 FIRST BASE FAULKNER 

representative of the Evening Recorder . The re- 
sult of his visit had been a half-column story in 
the next day’s paper of the novel store where cus- 
tomers helped themselves and paid on honour. It 
was a big advertisement for the little establish- 
ment and for several days afterwards folks came 
in just to see it and, usually, purchased something 
if only because of the novelty. 

Post-cards, too, were added, a series of six 
views of Amesville scenes, and attained such 
popularity that Joe’s original order had to be 
quickly duplicated. The picture of the Adams 
Building especially sold like hot cakes. Puzzles 
were another addition to the stock, ingenious con- 
trivances of metal or wood or tin that could be 
dropped in the pocket and that sold for exactly 
double what they cost when purchased from the 
news company. The cigar trade, however, was 
what accounted for most of the business done. 
The little showcase was no longer too large for 
its contents. On the contrary, it became more 
of a problem every week to find room in it for the 
goods they wished to display. Instead of five 
brands of cigars they now offered twelve, and of 
each brand they had to keep in stock from two to 
four sizes. Cigarettes and smoking tobaccos had 
also multiplied, while the top of the showcase 


FIRST BASE FAULKNER 


133 


held an assortment of gum, candies, and small 
confections, as well as the revolving post-card 
rack. In fact, the small space was already over- 
crowded and the boys had been for some time 
contemplating making a request to Mr. Adams 
for a shelf across the back to hold the cash regis- 
ter and the overflow from the case. 

One evening Joe and Jack arrived at the build- 
ing in a pelting rain which had appeared without 
warning, and the exclamations of dismay which 
he overheard as the feminine population of the 
building faced the alternative of getting wet or 
being late for supper put a new idea in Joe’s 
mind. The next day a sign appeared over the 
stand: “Umbrellas for Rent.” They put in a 
dozen cheap cotton umbrellas which, if not much 
to look at, performed their mission satisfactorily. 
Customers, if they worked in the building, merely 
left their names, paid a quarter and were supplied 
with protection from the rain. In the course of 
time the dozen dwindled to five or six, but by that 
time each had paid for itself thrice over and in- 
stead of wasting effort in recovering the missing 
ones Joe bought more. About this time an auto- 
matic telephone instrument was installed on the 
counter and proved a great convenience to the 
boys and to others as well. 


134 FIRST BASE FAULKNER 

At the end of the first four weeks of business 
the partners went over their books — or book, to 
be more accurate. They found that they had ex- 
pended for stock, rent, clerk's wages and inci- 
dentals the sum of $226.50, that they had taken 
in $324.17, and that their net profit was $97.67. 
While less than the estimate Joe had made, the 
amount was held to be satisfactory, for Joe's 
estimate had taken no account of clerk's wages 
and they were paying Mr. Chester Young ten 
dollars a week. Something like thirty per cent, 
profit ought to have satisfied anyone ! 

They paid off all indebtedness — there were no 
accounts save that with the news company, which 
they settled weekly — set aside the amount due 
Mr. Adams for rent to date and halved the bal- 
ance, each receiving as his share the sum of 
$48.83. The odd cent was left in the treasury! 
Then Joe paid back to his partner the borrowed 
thirty dollars, with interest at six per cent., al- 
though Jack insisted that Joe should wait until 
the end of the next month at least. But Joe pre- 
ferred to get square, he declared, and proceeded 
to do so by paying most of the eighteen dollars 
remaining to him to Aunt Sarah for board and 
rent. 

Jack's father laughingly told them that he 


FIRST BASE FAULKNER 


135 


thought they had been in rather a hurry to divide 
the profits and that it might have been a good 
idea to have left a portion of the money in the 
business. Joe, however, explained that they* 
would have to buy nothing for nearly a week, 
except the newspapers, and by that time they 
would have accumulated more profits. 4 ‘You see, 
sir, we ’re taking in about fifteen dollars a day on 
an average, and of that nearly four dollars and a 
half is clear profit. So we won’t have to keep 
any balance on hand.” 

“I see,” said Mr. Strobe gravely. “And what 
do you intend to do with all the money you make, 
boys?” 

“I’m going to put mine in the bank, I guess,” 
answered Jack. “I’ve tried to think of some- 
thing to spend it for, but I can’t!” 

“And how about you, Joe?” 

“I think I’ll start a bank account, too, sir, but 
I won’t be able to for another month at least. I 
pay three dollars a week to Aunt Sarah, you 
know, and I’d like to send a little money to my 
mother. ’ ’ 

“You could have done that now if you hadn’t 
paid back that thirty,” said Jack reproachfully. 

“I know, but I like to feel that I’m squared up 
with everyone. When I get, say, five hundred 


136 


FIRST BASE FAULKNER 


in the bank, if I ever do, Pd like to invest it in 
something, Mr. Strobe. Could I, do you sup- 
pose f ” 

“ Certainly. An excellent idea, Joe. You 
might find a small mortgage through the bank, 
or you could buy a few shares of some safe stock 
that would pay from four and a half to five per 
cent. You 11 get only three and a half from the 
savings bank. When you get ready to invest you 
let me know and 1 11 help you find something. ’ 9 

One Saturday evening Joe boarded a train and 
went to Columbus to visit his mother, spending a 
very pleasant Sunday with her and returning to 
Amesville late that night. 

If there was anyone even distantly connected 
with Joe’s business venture who did not thor- 
oughly approve of it, it was Miss Sarah Teele. 
Aunt Sarah was doubtless pleased that Joe was 
earning money; she had a very healthy admira- 
tion for folks who could do that, and a corre- 
spondingly poor opinion of those who couldn’t; 
but the fly in Aunt Sarah’s ointment was the fact 
that her nephew’s prosperity was due to the sale 
of cigars and cigarettes and tobacco. That rather 
spoiled it all in her eyes, for she was a fervidly 
outspoken foe to tobacco in all forms, and con- 
sidered the use of it closely akin to the use of 


FIRST BASE FAULKNER 137 
intoxicating liquors. Aunt Sarah made one ex- 
ception. A decoction of tobacco and water was 
an excellent preventive of bugs on her window 
plants ! If she could have bad her way she would 
have limited its use to that purpose. Conse- 
quently, from the first, she bad viewed Joe’s 
venture askance, hinting darkly that money 
earned by catering to the vice of smoking was 
tainted money and would bring no benefit to its 
possessor. Joe argued with her politely, hut was 
quite unable to shake her conviction. In the end 
they agreed to disagree, Aunt Sarah comforting 
herself with Joe’s solemn promise not to allow 
the association with what Aunt Sarah termed 
‘ ‘ the filthy weed ’ ’ to undermine his morals to the 
extent of causing him to smoke. For some weeks 
Joe frequently found Aunt Sarah regarding him 
anxiously as though seeking for signs of moral 
degeneracy produced by traffic in the obnoxious 
article. Not discovering any, however, Aunt 
Sarah accepted the state of affairs with the best 
philosophy she could command, and, to Joe’s sat- 
isfaction, said no more about it. When he an- 
nounced the result of that first month’s balance 
his aunt’s struggle between pleasure and disap- 
proval was almost ludicrous. 


CHAPTER XI 


HANDSOME FRANK 

The Saturday forenoon following their conver- 
sation regarding Frank Foley found Joe and his 
chum leaning against the counter in Cummings 
and Wright’s hardware store. Jack was pur- 
chasing a new sweater and Joe was assisting at 
the task. Joe would have liked just such a gar- 
ment as Jack was choosing, himself, but the next 
division of profits was a long way off and until 
that occurred he was bound to be in straitened 
circumstances. Jack had virtually decided on a 
handsome brown sweater with a broad band of 
blue across the chest and Tom Pollock, who had 
momentarily absented himself to sell a “ Junior 
League” ball to a grammar school youth, re- 
turned to inquire : 

‘ ‘ This one, Jack?” 

Jack nodded doubtfully. “I guess so, Tom. 
It’s sort of heavy for spring, but I suppose I’d 
better buy one that’ll be all right for next fall, 
too.” 


138 


FIRST BASE FAULKNER 


139 


Tom agreed, adding : 1 1 The new uniforms will 
be along next week, I think. They’re going to be 
the best ever. Pm getting them from a different 
maker this year and he ’s putting a lot better ma- 
terial into them. You ’ll need one, I suppose, 
Faulkner. ’ 9 

Joe smiled. “I’d like to think so,” he replied, 
“but I’m not counting on it.” 

“ You might as well,” said Jack. “ You’ll 
get in as a sub, anyway. Don’t you say so, 
Tom?” 

“I hope so. I haven’t seen Faulkner work, as 
a matter of fact, Jack. Anyhow, with all due 
respect to Bat, I think it’s the outdoor work that 
shows a chap up.” 

“That’s what I say,” agreed Jack. “Fellows 
who can lay down the cutest, darlingest little 
bunts on the cement floor swing like gates when 
they get out on the turf and have the sky in front 
of them instead of the wall of the cage. I’ve seen 
it happen often.” 

“Still,” demurred Joe, “it seems to me all 
that work indoors must be of some value. Don’t 
you consider it is, Pollock?” 

“Oh, yes, I do. I think it’s fine for getting 
fellows in shape and on edge, especially for the 
new chaps. What I mean is that when it comes 


140 


FIRST BASE FAULKNER 


to actual playing the conditions out of doors are 
so different that a fellow has to practically start 
all over again. At least that’s been my experi- 
ence. I’m talking of batting and fielding, you 
understand, and not pitching. A pitcher can get 
his wing in shape anywhere there’s room. Al- 
though, at that, I think working in the air is away 
ahead, of working down there with the steam 
pipes.” 

4 4 Do you think we’ll get out next week?” in- 
quired Jack. 

“Yes, I wouldn’t be surprised if we started 
Monday. Sam tells me the field’s in pretty good 
shape; a bit soft in places, but nothing much.” 
Tom chuckled as he snapped the string around 
the bundle and laid it in front of Jack. “Mr. 
Hall told a funny yarn one day in here, fellows. 
You don’t know him, maybe, Faulkner, but you 
will soon. He’s a dandy chap, and a double-dyed 
Han.’ ” 

“I’ve seen him,” replied Joe. “He knows the 
right place to buy cigars.” 

“Well, he told one day about a coach they had 
at college when he was a freshman. I forget 
what college he went to ; Sam could tell you. But 
it seems that they had an awfully wet spring 
that year and the diamond was on a rather low 


FIRST BASE FAULKNER 


141 


piece of ground, anyway, and it wouldn’t dry out 
for them. So this coach got the idea of having 
the players wear rubbers ! Said it would he dan- 
gerous to have them work on such wet ground 
without them because they might get rheumatism 
and sciatica and grippe and various other things, 
and he didn’t intend to lose half his team through 
illness just when it was needed most. So he sent 
in a requisition to the athletic committee or who- 
ever attended to purchasing supplies — probably 
the manager — for three or four dozen pairs of 
rubbers of assorted sizes. There was a lot of 
argument about the expense and finally the coach 
got his dander up and bought the rubbers him- 
self, and one day the fellows put them on and 
went out for their first practice on the field. The 
field was as soft as mush and whenever you put 
your foot down it went out of sight as far as 
your shin-bones! Mr. Hall said it was the fun- 
niest thing he ever saw. About every man in 
college was out to see what they called the ‘ Gum- 
shoe Nine,’ and they almost laughed themselves 
to death. Every time a fielder started after a 
ball he ’d leave one or both of his rubbers sticking 
in the mud and have to go back and hunt for them. 
Mr. Hall said that at one time there were three 
pairs of rubbers sticking out of the base-path 


142 FIKST BASE FAULKNER 

between second base and the plate where the run- 
ners had left them in their hurry to get around ! 
Finally the coach sent back to town and got a 
box of elastic bands and made the fellows snap 
them around their ankles over the rubbers. 
Practice went better after that, but there was 
almost a riot once, when one chap, who had stolen 
second, went back to get his rubbers and the sec- 
ond baseman tagged him out!” 

The laughter of Tom’s audience was inter- 
rupted by the opening of the door and the advent 
of Frank Foley. Handsome Frank quite deserved 
the title this morning. For a day or two there 
had been unmistakable indications of spring, and 
Foley had responded to them today by donning a 
Norfolk suit of very light homespun material with 
knickerbockers, a pair of very green golf stock- 
ings, and a cap that matched his suit. A pale helio- 
trope 4 ‘sport shirt” from under whose flaring 
collar emerged a vividly green scarf completed 
the costume, except that he was, naturally, ap- 
propriately shod with brown rubber-soled shoes. 
Even Tom was a bit taken back by the radiance 
of the vision which sought the athletic goods de- 
partment, and his “Hello, Frank,” sounded 
rather feeble. The other boys nodded, Jack add- 
ing a murmured salutation to the nod. Foley 


FIRST BASE FAULKNER 143 

returned the greetings with a remarkable absence 
of self-consciousness and joined the group. 

“What about a baseman’s glove, Tom?” he 
asked. “Anything new in that line this spring?” 

“No, nothing much different,” was the answer 
as Tom pulled some boxes from a shelf. “You 
had one of these last year, didn’t you?” he con- 
tinued, placing a glove on the counter. Foley 
examined it indifferently. 

“Yes, that’s like the one I’ve got now. I 
thought maybe there was something new on the 
market. How’s everything, Jack?” 

“Pretty good, Frank. My eyes are troubling 
me a bit, though.” 

“What’s the matter with them? They seemed 
all right at practice yesterday.” 

“I don’t know.” Jack gravely blinked. 
“They seem sort of weak. I guess it’s the glare 
that hurts them, Frank. You couldn’t turn your 
coat collar up, could you?” 

“Oh, that’s the idea?” said Foley calmly. 
“Don’t you like what I wear, Jack?” 

“Oh, I like it, all right, but my eyes sort of go 
back on me. What are you impersonating, Frank, 
a custard pie?” 

“You chaps have a lot of fun with my clothes, 
don’t you?” inquired Foley good-naturedly 


144 


FIRST BASE FAULKNER 


enough. “I don’t mind, though. I’d certainly 
hate to go around looking like a tramp, the way 
some of you do.” Foley seated himself on the 
counter, swinging his brightly-hued legs, and 
viewed Jack smilingly. “Any come-back to 
that?” he inquired. 

“There’s a come-back from me,” said Tom 
quietly. “Gentlemen will not, others must not, 
sit on the counters, Frank.” 

“Oh, all right; I’ll try to stand up a bit longer. 
I don’t believe you’ve got anything there I want, 
Tom.” He glanced unenthusiastically at the sev- 
eral gloves displayed. “I’ll use the one I’ve got. 
It went all right last year and I guess it’s still 
good.” 

“You won’t need a glove much this spring,” 
said the irrepressible Jack. “They’re not worn 
on the bench, Frank.” 

Foley winked untroubledly. “Don’t worry 
about me, old chap. I may not be any Mclnnes, 
you know, but I never noticed much resemblance 
between you and Tris Speaker. You watch out 
that you don’t keep that bench warm yourself.” 

“Frank, you know very well,” replied Jack 
severely, “that when it comes to playing base- 
ball I’ve got it all over you. You’re not a bad 
first baseman when you’ve got time for it, but 


FIRST BASE FAULKNER 145 

you know mighty well you can't bat over a hun- 
dred. I like you, Frank; I appreciate your many 
fine qualities, and I just love your picturesque- 
ness, but I don't just see you holding down that 
first sack beyond the middle of March. I'm say- 
ing this to you so you won't be too awfully dis- 
appointed when you lose your job." 

“Thanks." Foley laughed amusedly. “Just 
who is the coming wonder that gets my position, 
Jack? Is it Faulkner here? Is he telling you 
how good you are, Faulkner?" 

“He's just talking," replied Joe uncomfort- 
ably. 

“I'm not saying who it is, Frank," said Jack. 
“There are two or three who look good to me in 
your place. I'd be sorry to see you go, though. 
I certainly do like you, Frank." 

“Yes, you do — like poison," responded Foley 
with a grin. “Tell you what I'll do, Jack. I’ll 
bet you anything you like that I’ll play in more 
games — contests with outside teams, I mean — 
than you do this spring. Want to take that?" 

“Ger-ladly, old sport! I’ll bet you" — Jack's 
eyes twinkled about the cases and shelves — “I'll 
bet you one of those nice leather bat-cases, 
Frank. I've always wanted a bat-case. How 
much are they, Tom?" 


146 FIRST BASE FAULKNER 

“A dollar and a quarter and two seventy-five.” 

“I mean the all-leather ones.” 

“Two seventy-five.” 

“That’s the idea. How does that strike you, 
Frank? Feel like spending that much to make 
me happy?” 

“Yes, but I don’t happen to want a bat-case, 
thanks. Think of something else.” 

“Then I’ll buy you a couple of pairs of laven- 
der gloves to wear to the parties.” 

“Quit fooling and say something. What do I 
get if I win?” 

“What do you want that doesn’t cost more 
than the bat-bag?” 

“I don’t know. Leave it that I’m to pick out 
anything I like up to that amount, eh?” 

“Certainly. Gentlemen, you’ve heard the 
terms of the wager. If, at the end of the season, 
Frank has played in more games than I have he 
comes in here and goes the limit — up to two dol- 
lars and three-quarters. If, on the other 
hand ” 

“Why do I have to buy the thing here?” asked 
Frank. 

“Because I want to see my friend Mr. Pollock 
make a little money. Tom ought to get something 
out of it, Frank.” 


FIRST BASE FAULKNER 147 

“Oh, all right. I’ll find something I want, I 
guess / 9 

“As I was saying when so rudely interrupted,” 
resumed Jack, “if, on the other hand, Frank 
plays in no more games than I do he comes across 
with one of those perfectly beautiful and useless 
bat-bags which Tom prices at two dollars and 
seventy-five cents and which you can get 
from the mail-order house for a dollar sixty- 
nine.” 

“You try it,” laughed Tom. 

“I don’t need to. The cost doesn’t interest me 
a bit. Well, that is the wager, gentlemen. May 
the best man win — so long as it’s me. Come on, 
Joey. So long, Tom. Bye, Frank. By the way, 
which way are you going from here?” 

“You wait around and find out, old chap.” 

“Won’t tell? Sorry. I wanted to stand on 
the corner and see you go by.” 

“What did you do that for?” remonstrated 
Joe when they were on the sidewalk again. 

“Do what? Make that bet? Oh, just for fun. 
Besides, I’m pretty sure to win it.” 

“I didn’t mean the bet, you chump. I meant 
why did you rag him like that? He thinks you 
meant that I’m the one who’s to beat him out at 


first.” 


148 


FIE ST BASE FAULKNER 

“So you are,” answered Jack calmly. “As 
for why I did it, I did it because I couldn’t help 
it, Joey. Frank gives me a severe pain every 
time I meet him and I just can’t resist the 
temptation to have a little fun with him.” 

“He took it all right,” said Joe. “He’s good- 
natured, I guess.” 

“You guess again,” said Jack grimly. “He’s 
good-natured when he knows it would look silly 
to get mad, but he’s got a disposition like a — a — 
What is it that has a disposition?” 

“You!” laughed Joe. “You’ve got a nasty 
one at times.” 

“Meaning just now? Was I specially rude, 
Joey? Maybe I w T as a bit nasty. Well, never 
mind. You can’t really hurt Handsome Frank’s 
feelings. If you could he’d be black-and-blue by 
this time!” 

“Black and blue are the only things he wasn’t,” 
said Joe. 4 4 He was about every other colour; buff 
and green and purple and lavender ” 

‘ ‘ Shucks ! He was dressed real quietly today ; 
almost unostentatiously, so to speak! You ought 
to see him when he’s really dolled up ! Now, look 
here, Joey. If you don’t buckle down and play 
ball and beat him out of his position at first I’ll 
never forgive you.” 


FIRST BASE FAULKNER 


149 


“But, Jack, I can’t play first the way he can!” 

“How do you know? You’ve never seen him 
play. Besides, you can out-hit him. Leastways, 
if you can’t you ought to be ashamed. And it’s 
batting that’s going to count this spring, old 
man. Petersburg has got a line of good pitchers 
this year and Bat will be going on the policy that 
hits mean runs. So you get your eye peeled, 
Joey, and win that bet for me.” 

“I don’t think I’ll ever be much of a batter,” 
said Joe sadly. 

“Poppycock and piffle ! You can hit the merry 
sphere just as well as anyone can if you’ll only 
tell yourself so. Look here, what you want to do 
is to go out there and when the ball comes say to 
yourself, 'It’s so big I can’t miss it if I try! 
Why, it’s a cinch. Bing! That for you, 
Mr. Ball!’ Try it and see how well it will 
work. ’ ’ 

“You’re great on the psychology stuff, aren’t 
you?” laughed Joe. 

“I don’t know the gentleman,” answered Jack 
serenely. “I only know that no chap ever became 
a decent batsman by telling himself that he was 
no good! Confidence, my friend, confidence! 
That’s the — er — the password, no, the keynote, 
to success! Think it over. Now, let’s go in and 


150 


FIRST BASE FAULKNER 


see how much money we’ve taken in this morn- 
ing. Ah, as usual, Young has his Roman mob 
around the place. If he doesn’t make those 
loafers stay away we’ll get notice to quit, I’m 
thinking.” 


CHAPTER XII 


OUTDOOR PRACTICE 

BASEBALL 

“ Candidates report at the field dressed to play 
at 3:30. Craig.’ ’ 

This notice met the gaze of Joe on Monday 
morning as he paused in front of the bulletin 
board in the school corridor. Sidney Morris and 
a companion came up and read the announcement 
over his shoulder. 

“ That’s good news, Faulkner,” said Sidney. 
“Last year we were out a week earlier. By the 
way, do you know Toby Williams ?” 

The boys shook hands and the trio walked to- 
gether along the corridor. Williams was a nice- 
looking chap of about Joe’s age, rather solidly 
built, with a natural talent for pitching a baseball 
that had won for him the position of Tom Pol- 
lock’s understudy, Tom, it was said, showing 
Toby everything the former knew in the science 
so that next year Toby might come as near as 
151 


152 FIRST BASE FAULKNER 

possible to filling Tom’s shoes. There was still, 
however, a fairly long road for the younger boy 
to travel before he attained Tom Pollock’s 
standing. 

“ You ’re trying for the infield, aren’t you, 
Faulkner?” Toby asked. 

“Yes, but I don’t believe ” He paused, 

recalling Jack’s oft-repeated advice. “I don’t 
believe I’ll get what I want,” he resumed with 
assumed assurance. “The bases look to be pretty 
well occupied, and I want to play first or 
second.” 

Toby seemed impressed, but Sidney laughed as 
he said, not ill-naturedly: “There’s nothing like 
knowing what you want, Faulkner.” 

“And going after it?” asked Joe smilingly. 

Sidney nodded. “That’s right. How’s the 
business getting on?” 

“Very well, thanks.” 

“We were talking about you the other day, 
Tom Pollock and Sam Craig and I, ’ ’ said Sidney, 
“and Tom said he thought you were the luckiest 
chap he knew, and I guess I agree with him. 
You’ve been here in Amesville only a couple of 
months and you’ve got a good business and are 
making money at it. Sam said he guessed luck 
had less to do with it than pluck, though.” 


153 


FIRST BASE FAULKNER 

“I think Tom Pollock was nearer right,” re- 
plied Joe modestly. “It’s been mostly luck, I 
guess.” 

“Jack Strobe’s in that with you, isn’t he?” 
inquired Toby. 

“Yes, it was Jack put in most of the money to 
start. About all I had was the idea!” 

“And the luck,” laughed Sidney. “ ‘Lucky’ 
Faulkner is your real name, I guess. Well, I 
hope your luck keeps on. If it does, maybe you’ll 
get what you want on the team ! ’ ’ 

The gong put an end to the talk and they hur- 
ried off to their rooms. Whether that was the 
beginning of it Joe never knew, hut a month later 
he suddenly awoke to the fact that he was very 
generally known throughout school as “Lucky” 
Faulkner! He was inclined to dislike the nick- 
name at first, since to him it seemed to preclude 
more desirable attributes, but Jack insisted that 
to be called lucky was a great compliment be- 
cause, after all, what was called luck was in real- 
ity the reward for skill or forethought or some 
other quality of merit. Jack didn’t put it in quite 
those words, but that was the idea he managed 
to convey, and Joe, considering it, became recon- 
ciled. It was perhaps just as well he did, for by 
that time the nickname had come to stay, and his 


154 FIRST BASE FAULKNER 
approval or disapproval would have had small 
effect. 

That Monday afternoon it was a gay-hearted 
lot of fellows who gathered at the field, which lay 
some ten blocks north of the high school. To be 
out of doors again filled everyone with delight 
and neither coach nor captain had any cause for 
complaint that day on the score of laziness. The 
way the ball was sped around was a fair indica- 
tion of the candidates’ eagerness. Practice was 
rudimentary. There was some batting at the net, 
with Toby Williams and Carl Moran doing the 
tossing, a half-hour of fielding, Coach Talbot hit- 
ting to the infield, and Manager Mifflin knocking 
fungoes to the outfield, and, finally, a short period 
of work on the paths. The weather gave them 
of its best. The March sun shone warmly and, 
although there was still a tinge of winter in the 
air, spring was genuinely in possession. The 
sod was not yet dry and the base-paths were 
pretty soft, but no one minded a bit; not even 
“Buster” Healey when, in a desperate attempt 
to get from second to third on the throw to the 
plate, he lost his footing and reached the bag flat 
on his back. Practice was delayed while most of 
the infield scraped the mud from him. 

Joe had a session with Tom Pollock in front of 


FIRST BASE FAULKNER 


155 


the backstop. Sam Craig was catching at the 
plate, Speyer taking the throws for Mifflin, and 
so Bat told Joe to get a glove and let Tom 
pitch to him. Joe was doubtful of his ability to 
hold the redoubtable Mr. Pollock, but he got along 
very well. Tom used little speed and, although 
some of the breaks and hooks were at first con- 
fusing, Joe soon discovered that the ball might 
be depended on to straighten out before it reached 
him. After that he was put on second and 
handled Sam’s throw-downs fairly well and found 
that his own throwing arm was quite equal to 
the task of snapping the ball across to first or 
third or back to the plate. Frank Foley held 
down first base today and Joe secretly admired 
and envied the easy, finished way in which that 
tall youth with the long reach handled the throws. 
The work was pretty crude, which was natural 
enough, and Coach Talbot had plenty to say, but 
when practice ended at a little before five every- 
one was in the best of spirits and the fellows, as 
they made their way back home, discussed eagerly 
the first game of the year, which was due in less 
than two weeks. This contest was to be, as usual, 
with the Amesville Grammar School nine, and 
while it was not looked on as more than an oppor- 
tunity for practice, still it was anticipated with 


156 


FIRST BASE FAULKNER 


pleasure. Grammar School was already predict- 
ing what it would do to High School, and was 
awaiting the fray with equal eagerness. 

High School had arranged a schedule calling 
for seventeen games this Spring, eight of which 
were to be played away from Amesville. Aside 
from Petersburg High School, Amesville High’s 
real rival in athletics, whom she played the final 
game with the last of June, the only notable foes 
were Lynton High School and Crowell Academy. 
There were two games scheduled with Lynton 
and one with Crowell. Besides the scheduled 
contests there were others which might or might 
not eventuate; as, for instance, a game with the 
nine from the carpet mill and a second, possibly 
a third meeting with the grammar school. Until 
the middle of May only Saturdays were sched- 
uled, but after that midweek games were down 
for the balance of the season. 

Outdoor practice continued uninterruptedly 
for the rest of the first week. Then, on Sunday, 
began a four-day stretch of wretched weather and 
the fellows went disgustedly back to the cage. 
On Sunday it blew a gale and swept a hard rain 
from the southwest. On Monday the rain turned 
to snow for a while, later changing to sleet and, 
finally, back to rain again. Tuesday it drizzled. 


FIRST BASE FAULKNER 


157 


Wednesday was a day of mist and fog. Thursday 
noon the sun came out. But by that time the field 
was a quagmire again and all hope of playing the 
game with Grammar School on Saturday had to 
be abandoned. Consequently the contest was put 
over until Tuesday at four, and Manager Thad 
Mifflin, who was popularly believed to be account- 
able for weather conditions and the state of the 
diamond, found life a burden. 

Meanwhile Joe had performed, if not bril- 
liantly, at least satisfactorily as a substitute 
baseman. He had been tried at first, second and 
third bases, and, on one occasion, had pulled down 
flies in centre field. At the bat he had so far 
signally failed to distinguish himself. Perhaps 
he did as well as most of the substitutes, but he 
found that trickling bunts across the floor of the 
cage was not the same as standing in front of 
Tom Pollock, or even Carl Moran, and trying to 
connect with their various offerings. The best 
Joe could expect, or, so he told himself, was a 
place on the Second Team — The Scrubs, they 
called them — when that was formed. Jack was 
plainly disappointed in the proficiency of his 
chum, although he tried not to show the fact, and 
never ceased to offer encouragement. 

‘'You’ll find your batting eye presently,” Jack 


158 FIEST BASE FAULKNER 

would assert stoutly. “ A fellow can’t play de- 
cent ball, anyway, until the weather settles down 
and gets warm. I never could. Along about the 
middle of May ” 

Joe interrupted with a laugh. “ Along about; 
the middle of May,” he replied, “will be a bit 
late, Jack. If I’m going to do anything this year 
I’ll have to do it pretty quick, I’m thinking.” 

“Ye-e-es — I’ll tell you, Joey, the trouble is you 
don’t go at it right; batting, I mean.” 

“I suppose I don’t,” owned Joe. “Anyway, I 
don’t accomplish much.” 

“Try swinging slower. I watched you yester- 
day. You start your bat away around behind you 
and then swing like lightning. Maybe if you’ll 
take a short swing and a slow one, just meet the 
ball, as they say, you might do better.” 

“Just meeting the ball doesn’t get you hits, 
though,” demurred the other. 

“That’s where you’re wrong, old man. Even 
if you only hold your bat out still, a hard-pitched 
ball will bound off it away across the infield. I 
think it’s a mistake to try to slug at first; be- 
fore — well, before you’ve got where you’re cer- 
tain, if you see what I mean!” 

“You mean that I ought to get so I can hit the 
ball before I — before I hit it!” laughed Joe. 


FIRST BASE FAULKNER 


159 


“Before you try to knock the cover off it, yes. 
Between you and me, that’s the reason a lot of 
chaps don’t hit better than they do,” continued 
Jack. “They want to make home-runs or three- 
baggers, and they don’t stop to think that a short 
hit that gets you to first is a lot better than a 
home-run that doesn’t happen!” 

“You talk like one of those little blue books,” 
jeered Joe. “ ‘How to Become a Ball-Player’ or 
‘The Art of Batting’!” 

“I’m telling you what I’ve learned,” replied 
Jack unruffledly. “I’m not much of a player my- 
self, but I’ve kept my eyes open. Look here, 
Joey, I’ll tell you what we might do, you and I, 
and it wouldn’t hurt either of us a mite. Let’s 
go down to the cage at recess every noon and 
practise. We’ll keep a bat and ball at school 
and I’ll pitch to you and you bat, and you can 
pitch to me and I’ll bat. I don’t mean really 
pitch, of course, because I can’t do it; nor you, 
either; but just serve ’em up, you know, and let 
the other fellow see how many he can hit. Bet 
you anything you like if we do that long enough 
we can get so we can connect with anything! It’s 
the eye that does the trick, Joey. It’s getting the 
eye trained so that, no matter where the ball 


160 


FIRST BASE FAULKNER 


comes, you can put the bat in front of it. Want 
to try it!” 

“ I ’ll try anything,” responded Joe. “Still, it 
seems to me all that batting practice I had in the 
cage before we went outdoors didn’t do me much 
good.” 

‘ ‘ This ’ll be different. You know the way you do 
when you take a tennis racket and try to keep the 
ball bouncing against a wall or a floor! Well, 
that’s the same idea. It teaches you quickness 
and sureness, doesn’t it!” 

“I guess so. All right, we’ll have a go at it 
tomorrow. Have you a bat at home!” 

“Yes, and some old balls. I’ll bring them down 
tomorrow and we’ll try the scheme. We’ve got 
to do something to beat Handsome Frank, * that ’s 
certain ! ’ ’ 

“You do hate him, don’t you!” laughed Joe. 

“No, I don’t hate him one mite,” replied Jack 
seriously. ‘ 4 1 even have a sort of sneaking liking 
for the chump. But I do love to take him down 
a notch or two whenever I can. Besides, I want 
that bat-case ! ’ ’ 


CHAPTER XIII 

THE FIRST GAME 

The game with the grammar school team came 
off the following Tuesday on extremely damp 
grounds and under weather conditions far from 
ideal. Although it was the first of April, the wind 
was in the northeast and it blew across the play- 
ing field with a most unfriendly ferocity. The 
game didn’t begin until ten minutes past four, 
and by that time the few spectators who had 
courageously turned out to witness the team’s 
debut were shivering with the cold and had de- 
serted the stands to keep their blood in circula- 
tion by moving about. 

Joe, wrapped in a sweater, hands in pockets, 
sat with a dozen other substitutes on the home 
bench and tried to keep his teeth from chattering. 
It had been agreed that, because of the weather 
conditions and the lateness of the starting time, 
the game was to go but six innings. High School 
presented a batting-list composed, with two ex- 
ceptions, of seasoned material. Gordon Smith, 
shortstop, led off, followed by Sidney Morris and 
161 


162 


FIRST BASE FAULKNER 


Jack Strobe. Sidney played centre field and was 
a good bitter. Smith could be relied on to get 
his base five times out of ten under ordinary cir- 
cumstances, and Jack was in third place as clean- 
up hitter. Buster Healey, second baseman ; Steve 
Hale, third baseman ; Frank Foley, first baseman, 
batted in that order, following Jack. Healey 
was a good but erratic hitter, Foley at best could 
be called fair, and Hale, a newcomer on the team 
this spring, was still an unknown quantity. 
Captain Craig followed Frank Foley. Then came 
Walter Cummings, another unproved hitter, and, 
finally, the pitcher, who today happened to be 
Toby Williams. 

Toby got himself into a bit of a mess in the 
very first inning when he allowed the second 
grammar school batter to walk and followed that 
by offering a straight ball to the opposing team’s 
captain, who had a local reputation as a hitter. 
Captain Gandy sent that ball straight down the 
alley between shortstop and third baseman and 
took two bases on the hit, promoting the man 
ahead to third. Toby struck out the next boy, 
and with two gone, the prospect of escaping 
being scored on became brighter. But a glaring 
error by Healey let in two runs and put the fourth 
batsman safely on first, from whence he departed 


FIRST BASE FAULKNER 163 

for second a moment later and was thrown out, 
Craig to Smith. 

The handful of grammar school youths shouted 
and exulted and swaggered, reminding each 
other that “I told you so!” But their de- 
light didn’t last long, for High School fell on 
their pitcher and swatted the ball all over the 
lot, filling the bases with no one out. Buster 
Healey tried to redeem himself by cleaning them 
off, but only fouled to third baseman, and Hale 
struck out, more because of a lack of confidence 
than because the pitcher’s offerings were in any 
way difficult. When Foley went to bat there 
seemed but slight chance of scoring and so Tom 
Pollock, who was coaching behind first, sent out 
orders for a triple steal. Strangely enough, 
Foley not only connected with the ball as the 
runners sprinted, but actually hit it out safely for 
two bases ! That took the heart out of Grammar 
School’s twirler and he passed Sam Craig, in 
spite of the captain’s very evident desire to earn 
his way, and repeated the compliment in the case 
of Cummings. That advanced Foley to third, 
and when Toby came to bat he performed very 
nicely, just as he was told to, trickling a bunt 
along first base line and beating the throw to the 
bag. Foley scored unchallenged. 


164 


FIRST BASE FAULKNER 


Grammar School began to despair of ever get- 
ting that third out! Gordon Smith hit safely, 
scoring Craig and Cummings and putting Toby 
Williams on second, Sidney Morris drew a pass, 
and, living up to his reputation, Jack Strobe 
cleaned the bases with a long line-hit that didn’t 
touch the ground until it was able to strike the 
right field fence on the first bound! But Jack, 
although he barely managed to reach third on 
what should have been only a two-bagger, died 
there a minute or two later when Buster again 
failed to distinguish himself. 

High School jeered and flung derisive remarks 
in the direction of the small but devoted 
band of grammar school youths, who, in their 
dejection, found successful repartee beyond them. 

The second inning found a new pitcher in the 
points for the grammar school, but he was only 
slightly more puzzling than the deposed twirler, 
and, after turning the enemy down in one, two, 
three order, High School proceeded to indulge 
in another batting-fest. But this time she scored 
only three runs, bringing her total to twelve. By 
the end of that inning only the more enthusiastic 
‘ 1 fans” remained, the others seeking warmer sur- 
roundings. With a lead of ten runs, Coach Talbot 
decided to begin on his second-string players and 


FIRST BASE FAULKNER 


165 


made substitutions right and left during the re- 
mainder of the game. Toby Williams gave place 
to Carl Moran in the fourth, and Moran, heart- 
ened by the lead his team possessed, pitched a 
very pretty article of ball. When Amesville took 
the field in the fifth inning only four regulars re- ' 
mained in the line-up — Sam Craig, Sidney Mor- 
ris, Frank Foley and Carl Moran. Buster Healey 
gave way to Joe, who was secretly hoping to be 
allowed on first. When, however, Foley did drop 
out, in the final inning, it was young Farquhar 
who took his place. Joe wasn’t worried by the 
rivalry of Farquhar, who was as yet by no means 
varsity material, but how, he wondered, was he 
ever to convince Coach Talbot or Captain Craig 
or anyone else that he could play first base if he 
never was allowed to get there? 

On second Joe played a steady game, but had 
little to do, since Moran held the visitors in check 
throughout the two innings. The contest finally 
ended with the score 17 to 3, the grammar 
school’s third run having been scored in the 
fourth by a combination of two scratch hits and 
an error by shortstop. By the time the last man 
was out in the sixth the players and the handful 
of spectators who remained were chilled to the 
bone and heartily glad to get away. On the 


166 


FIRST BASE FAULKNER 


whole, that first baseball game of the season had 
proved just about what Jack dubbed it, a ‘ ‘ frost .’ ’ 

Perversely, the weather changed its tune the 
next day, and for a week blue skies and soft 
breezes held sway, and practice was once more 
enjoyable. They worked hard, all of them, from 
Captain Sam himself down to the youngest and 
newest tyro, but it was work they liked. By the 
time another week had passed into history im- 
provement was plainly visible. The team was 
finding itself. Batting was gradually ceasing to 
be a lost art, wild heaves were becoming fewer, 
and on the base-paths the fellows began to show 
what Coach Talbot called almost human intelli- 
gence. 

The noonday practice in the cage was produc- 
ing results for Joe and Jack. It would have been 
strange if it had not, for when you put in from 
fifteen to twenty minutes six times a week doing 
nothing but trying to bring a poised bat against 
a thrown ball you’ve simply got to learn some- 
thing! And Joe learned that the time to judge 
a pitched ball was just before it reached the plate 
and not when it left the pitcher’s glove, and that 
“the shorter the swing the surer the hit.” They 
took turns standing in front of the wall at one 
erid of the baseball cage and trying to hit every- 


FIRST BASE FAULKNER 167 

thing that came. At first they made no special 
effort to direct the hits. The game was to let no 
ball get past. It was fine training for the eye, 
there could be no doubt of that, and very soon 
the one who pitched had to use all his cunning 
to get the ball by the bat. Then the batter tried 
to put the ball always toward the pitcher, and 
after he had gained proficiency at that he at- 
tempted to hit it to the left or the right. 

Naturally enough it was Jack who showed the 
most cleverness at this, and when they had been 
holding these batting practices for some three 
weeks his ability to hit every offering and tap it 
away to any corner of the cage he liked was 
almost startling. The boys usually had an audi- 
ence of from one or two to a dozen, who, coming 
first to make fun, finally watched with interest 
and admiration. Many were the requests from 
the spectators to be allowed to try their skill, 
but Joe and Jack, by then very earnest at their 
work, refused to be interfered with. Two other 
fellows appeared one day with bat and ball and 
insisted on sharing the cage. But their enthusi- 
asm was short-lived. They came the next day 
and the third day following that, but never again. 

For a time Joe was deeply disappointed, even 
disgruntled, because that practice in the cage 


168 FIEST BASE FAULKNEE 

failed to bring about any improvement on the 
field. The fact puzzled Jack, too, and he had no 
very good explanation to offer. The best he could 
do was to lay it to the difference of conditions. 
Joe agreed that that was probably it and wanted 
to know what use there was in keeping on with 
the cage stunt. But he did keep on, neverthe- 
less, and at last, just when he was reaching a 
stage of abject hopelessness, the practice bore 
fruit. 

It was one Wednesday afternoon, two weeks 
after the grammar school game. Two other un- 
important contests had been won and in three 
days Amesville was to play the first of its two 
scheduled games with Lynton High School. Joe, 
with a half-dozen others, was at the batting-net 
and Williams, a bit bored and listless, was pitch- 
ing. Buster Healey had finally managed to line 
one to the equally bored substitutes who 
were fielding the balls, and had stepped aside, 
giving place to Joe. Joe had already been up 
once and had had a hard time getting his hit in 
spite of the fact that Toby was putting very little 
on the ball. And now he was just as hopeless as 
ever he had been as he hitched his trousers and 
gripped his bat. 

“Soak it, Faulkner,” said Cummings lazily. 


FIRST BASE FAULKNER 169 

“I want another whack at it before Toby’s arm 
gives out.” 

Toby, picking up one of the half-dozen balls 
that surrounded him, grinned: “If he hits be- 
fore I get three over on him I’ll chase it myself.” 

“That’s a sporting proposition, Faulkner,” 
exclaimed Hale. “Go to it! I’d love to see 
Williams trot over to the fence and back!” 

Toby was a little more crafty now, took a full 
wind-up and shot a drop over the base-bag which 
did duty as a plate. Buster, leaning on his bat 
behind the net, announced a strike. 

“It was a peach, Toby. Now don’t let him 
work you again, Joe. Watch for a slow one.” 

“This is going to be a beaner,” laughed Toby. 
“Look out!” 

But it came waist-high, broke to the left, and 
failed to win Buster’s approval. 

“Ball, Toby,” he said. “Too wide. Come on, 
now, show your goods ! ’ ’ 

Toby’s reply to the challenge was a fast ball 
with a slight curve and Joe guessed it right. Bat 
and ball met and, although Joe made only a half- 
swing, the sphere sped straight over Toby’s 
head — he ducked involuntarily, to the delight of 
the batters — and travelled far back down the 
field. 


170 


FIRST BASE FAULKNER 


“Don’t touch it!” bawled Buster. “Let it 
alone, Loomis ! Now, then, Toby, shake a 
leg, old scout! You said you’d field it, you 
know. ’ ’ 

Toby smiled wanly and kept his promise, jog- 
ging far down the field to the surprise of the 
fielders and the gleeful chortles of the batting 
squad. 

“That was a peach,” declared Steve Hale as 
Joe, as much surprised as Toby Williams, meas- 
ured the hit and relinquished his place to Cum- 
mings. Joe looked indifferent, but secretly he 
was as pleased as Punch. There’s something de- 
lightfully heartening in the feel and sound of a 
good, clean hit, and as Joe moved back he still 
felt the tingle in his palms and experienced an 
inward glow of satisfaction. That, he reflected, 
was the first hit he could remember that he had 
been entirely satisfied with! Of course, it had 
been made in practice instead of in a game, but 
still Toby had really been trying to fool him and 
some measure of credit was due him. 

Toby came back, hot and perspiring, from his 
jaunt, with the recovered ball in his hand, and 
proceeded to wreak vengeance on Hale. The fel- 
lows at the net still guyed him, however, and Hale 
speedily found a hit. When Buster’s turn came 


FIRST BASE FAULKNER 171 

again he asked: “Will yon field it, Toby, if I 
get to you inside of three !” 

But Toby had had enough and shook his head, 
which proved fortunate in the light of succeeding 
events. Buster, after fouling two, sent a long 
fly arching out. 

When Joe stepped in front of the net Toby 
waved a hand in sarcastic greeting. “Hit ’em 
as hard as you like, Faulkner,” he called. “All 
bets are off!” 

Nevertheless, it was soon evident to Joe and 
the others that Toby didn’t intend his offerings 
to be hit hard, for he used all his skill, “mixing 
them up” bewilderingly. One went as a ball, the 
next was a foul-tip, the third was a doubtful strike, 
the fourth was another foul. Joe was matching 
his skill against the pitcher’s, and for the first 
time he was confident of the result. He let a 
second strike go past because, although he was 
certain he could have taken it, it was too low to 
hit any distance. Again he fouled, going after 
the ball just as he had been doing down in the 
schoolhouse basement, and still again. Toby 
showed impatience. 

“Oh, hit one, Faulkner! I’m giving ’em to 
you soft!” 

“Yes, you are!” jeered Buster, behind the im- 


172 FIRST BASE FAULKNER 

provised plate. “You’re putting everything 
you’ve got on them ! I dare you to put one in the 
groove, Toby!” 

Toby took the dare, launching a straight, fast 
ball to the net that looked like a white streak. 
But Joe glued his eyes to it, swung short but from 
the shoulders, and there was a fine, resounding 
crack! Toby turned slowly and watched the ball 
streak far into the field. Then he held up both 
hands and grinned at Joe. 

“You win!” he said. 

That was the beginning of Joe’s batting suc- 
cess. After that day he faced the pitcher, who- 
ever he might be, with a confident smile reflect- 
ing the inward conviction that he could hit. 
There was nothing remarkable about his batting 
that season and he was never spectacular. 
Usually his contribution proved a single, infre- 
quently a double. He was in no danger of being 
dubbed “Home-Run” Faulkner. And frequently 
enough, more frequently than he approved of, 
you may be sure, he struck out just as inglori- 
ously as anyone else on the team. But, somehow, 
he showed a reliability that began to be talked 
about toward the end of the season. It was a 
fair wager, when he went to the plate, that he 
would deliver a hit. Often he didn’t; more often 


FIRST BASE FAULKNER 173 

he did. And what made his hits go safe was that 
practice in the baseball cage, for through that 
he had attained an almost uncanny ability to 
place them. Few pitchers could make him hit 
where he didn’t want to. Jack once declared 
that Joe, who was a right-handed batter, could 
hit a fast ball to right field and a slow one to 
left any time he wanted to ! This was somewhat 
of an exaggeration, but certain it is that Joe was 
a clever batter when it came to “putting them 
where they ain’t,” and his title of Lucky Faulk- 
ner was felt to have been wisely bestowed. But 
I am ahead of my story, for Joe’s batting prow- 
ess, although it came into being that April after- 
noon at the net, was of gradual growth. When 
all is said, the way to learn to bat is to bat. And 
that is the way Joe learned. 

Amesville played Lynton one warm, cloudy 
afternoon on the former’s grounds and took her 
first beating. Lynton had a way of winning from 
Amesville when all the signs pointed toward de- 
feat. She never played remarkable ball; never, 
in fact, won from any other club of Amesville ’s 
ability. But, somehow, almost every year Lyn- 
ton managed to secure the decision in one or an- 
other of the two games played. And every year 
there came a loud and impatient demand for a 


174 


FIRST BASE FAULKNER 


third and deciding contest. But the third con- 
test seldom occurred, seldom when it was de- 
manded, because by that time both teams had 
filled their dates, and never by arrangement at 
the beginning of the season because at such times 
Amesville smiled confidently and said: “Well, 
this year we won’t have any fooling. We’ll take 
’em both!” 

Lynton’s perversity had secured for her the 
compliment of being looked on by Amesville as 
second only to Petersburg as a worthy foeman. 
Sometimes Lynton won by virtue of her enemy’s 
errors, caused by over-eagerness. Sometimes she 
won by sheer luck, as when, two years before, 
with the score 7 to 6 in Amesville ’s favour in the 
ninth inning, the Amesville pitcher had let down 
long enough to allow two tail-enders to get to 
third and second bases, and then, with two down 
and two strikes on the batsman, had pitched a 
wild ball that had sent the batter staggering 
away from the plate and had seen in amazement 
the ball hit the shouldered bat, bound away to 
just behind first base, and land fair a yard beyond 
anyone’s reach while the runners crossed the 
home plate with enough tallies to take the game ! 
That contest had become famous in Amesville 
legends, and nowadays it was the usual thing for 


FIRST BASE FAULKNER 


175 


someone to shout at a crucial moment in a game : 
“ Don’t hit his bat, Tom!” Amesville had re- 
mained sore over that game for a whole year 
and had only regained her composure when, the 
following spring, she had tied the first Lynton 
contest and then routed her enemy in the second 
struggle by the generous score of 17 to 6 ! 

This year Amesville appeared a trifle less con- 
fident of winning the two battles, although she 
perhaps secretly expected to do so. At all events, 
she took no chances in that first game. Tom 
Pollock started in the box and remained until the 
seventh inning, at which time Amesville had a 
satisfactory lead of four runs. Toby Williams 
relieved him, and Toby had an off-day if ever 
pitcher had! For two innings he escaped real 
punishment, although one of several passes re- 
sulted in the eighth in a tally for Lynton. But 
in the first half of the ninth, with the score then 
8 to 5 in the home team’s favour, Toby simply laid 
down in the traces. Afterwards some of the 
blame was laid at the door of coach and captain, 
for it was said that J ack Speyer, who was put in 
Sam Craig’s place behind the bat in the eighth, 
showed poor judgment. In any case, after get- 
ting through the next to the last session at the 
expense of but one run, Toby went to the bad 


176 


FIRST BASE FAULKNER 


completely. Twice, when the batter had three 
balls and no strikes against him, Speyer and 
Toby met in consultation between plate and 
mound and Lynton howled and hooted. In that 
disastrous ninth Toby gave two passes, hit a bats- 
man and was punished for four hits with a total 
of six bases ! Before Carl Moran could even peel 
his sweater off preparatory to warming up the 
mischief was done. When Carl did go in the 
score was tied and there were runners on second 
and third, with two men out. The only wonder 
was that Lynton had managed to score so few 
runs! Carl did his best, which was not a very 
good best, but he was facing a desperate situation 
and was plainly nervous. The next batter hit 
safely past Hale and two more runs were scored. 
Then Carl gave a pass, just to show that Toby 
was not the only generous pitcher on the team, 
and, after Speyer had overthrown second in an 
effort to kill a steal and one more runner had 
scored, he persuaded the Lynton catcher to send 
a long fly to Jack Strobe’s waiting hands. 

When that fatal half-inning was over the score 
told a far different tale ! Lynton was in the lead, 
eleven runs to Amesville’s eight. Coach Talbot 
used all his science and shifted and substituted 
bewilderingly in the last of the ninth, and it was 


FIRST BASE FAULKNER 177 

then that Joe made his debut. Foley, while play- 
ing a clean game at the bag, had been hitting mis- 
erably all the afternoon, and when Mr. Talbot 
looked about for someone to bat in his stead Joe 
was about the only fellow left on the bench eligi- 
ble to play. By that time Morris had struck out, 
Jack was on second and Healey on first. Joe 
faced the Lynton pitcher calmly and smilingly, 
but he confessed afterwards to Jack that he was 
a bit weak in the knees ! However, that weakness 
didn’t prevent him from out-guessing the pitcher 
on the first delivery and driving the ball down 
the alley between first and second basemen, scor- 
ing Jack, putting Buster on third, and reaching 
second himself on his stomach with no time to 
spare ! But that was the last sputter, for Loomis, 
rushed into the breach to bat for Speyer, took 
the count without a swing, and once more Lyn- 
ton, the incorrigible, pesky varmint, had won! 

The visitors went off with laughter and song, 
cheering and jeering, leaving Amesville to com- 
fort herself with the knowledge of a future meet- 
ing and to once more raise the cry of “ Give us a 
third game!” 


CHAPTER XIV 


A TRY-OUT AT FIRST 

The Second Team was formed the third week in 
April. Joe found, rather to his surprise, that he 
was to be retained with the first squad as substi- 
tute infielder and was not to be relegated to the 
second. That was, certainly, a compliment to his 
playing ability, and he was duly pleased, but there 
were moments during the succeeding fortnight 
when he almost wished that he had been placed 
on the scrub, since in that case he would undoubt- 
edly have been put at first and would be playing 
there regularly instead of sitting half of the time 
on the bench and trying not to hope that Frank 
Foley would break a finger or sprain an ankle! 
When Joe did get in it was more likely to be at 
second base than first, since Buster Healey, the 
regular incumbent of that position, was playing 
a decidedly erratic game and Coach Talbot was 
becoming discouraged with him and was con- 
stantly pulling him out in favour of a substitute. 
Buster had it in him to play fine ball, but this 
178 


FIRST BASE FAULKNER 


179 


spring he was badly off his game. Joe was 
always glad to get a chance to play, and would 
have gone behind the bat, had he been told to, or 
even into the outfield, rather than remain on the 
bench, but he did wish that Bat would give him 
a chance at first. 

Jack suggested once when Joe was mourning 
the lack of opportunity to exhibit his skill at the 
first sack that they enter into a deep, dark con- 
spiracy against Handsome Frank. “We might,’ ’ 
said Jack thoughtfully, “decoy him to the soda 
fountain and slip poison in his drink. Or we 
might wait for him outside his house some night 
and stab him full of holes. If we did that it 
might be best to leave a Black Hand note at- 
tached to the stiletto in order to avert suspicion. 
They’d probably arrest Tony, the bootblack, and 
might hang him. Tony never did anything to me, 
and — No, I guess it wouldn’t be fair to have Tony 
hung. How would a bomb do? We could put it 
under his seat at school and ” 

“And blow ourselves up, too?” asked Joe. 
“No, I don’t like that idea so much, Jack.” 

Jack acknowledged that it had its drawbacks. 
“Just the same,” he asserted decisively, “some- 
thing must be done. Frank has a nasty way of 
grinning at me nowadays, and yesterday he 


180 


FIRST BASE FAULKNER 


wanted to know if I was feeling well. Said I 
looked a bit pale. And the funny thing is, Joey, 
that I don’t feel awfully smart; haven’t for 
nearly a week. I suppose it ’s the warm weather, 
but if I caught scarlet fever or anything and had 
to lay off for a couple of weeks I’d lose that bet 
sure as shooting!” 

‘ ‘Well, I guess you needn’t count on me to help 
you win it,” replied Joe hopelessly. 4 4 Bat seems 
to think that I’m only good on second, or, some- 
times, third.” 

“If Buster doesn’t take a brace you’ll find 
yourself on second for keeps,” said Jack. “I’d 
like to know what’s the matter with that chap. 
Last year, and the year before, too, he was a 
mighty good second-sacker, but now — Great 
Scott, did you see that heave of his to Frank yes- 
terday? It went three yards wide of the base if 
it went an inch, and Buster declares that he threw 
straight as an arrow! And even his hitting is 
punk. I don’t see Bat’s idea of trying to make 
a first baseman of Farquhar this season. The 
kid’s too green for it.” 

“Maybe if Healey would brace up,” said Joe, 
“I’d lose my job at second and might get a chance 
to substitute Foley. I sometimes wish they’d let 
me go to the Scrubs.” 


FIRST BASE FAULKNER 


181 


“Piffle ! At least, you’re a member of the First 
Team, even if you don’t play all the time, and 
you’ll get your letter, too, before the season’s 
over. Next month Bat will be putting you in 
somewhere for four or five innings at a whack. 
Then, if you get into the Petersburg game you’ll 
get your A.” 

“Yes, but what’s to keep Bat from getting 
tired of seeing me sitting around and letting me 
go long before that!” asked Joe dismally. 

“Everything! He’s got to have at least two 
substitute infielders, hasn’t he? And you’re one 
of them, aren’t you? Anyway, if you keep on 
batting as well as you’ve been doing it he won’t 
dare to let you go. Speaking of that, Joey, I 
guess we’ve done about all we can with that 
parlour baseball stunt of ours in the cage. We 
might as well call that off, I think.” 

“Especially as we’ve missed about every other 
day lately,” Joe laughed. 

“I know. It’s too warm now to feel ambitious. 
All a fellow wants to do at recess is lie on his 
back and watch the clouds go over and wonder 
where they get the energy to do it! You can’t 
say, though, that that scheme of mine hasn’t 
worked. ’ ’ 

“I don’t try to. It did me a lot of good, Jack. 


182 


FIRST BASE FAULKNER 


I — I almost think that by next year I’ll be a fairly 
good hitter.” 

“You’ll be that this year if you keep on im- 
proving. Tom is the only fellow you can’t hit 
about as you like. And that ’s no disgrace to you, 
because Tom Pollock is about as good a pitcher 
as you’ll find in the State, and I’m not excepting 
professionals, either!” 

“Toby told me the other day that Tom has a 
chance to go to a league team whenever he wants 
to.” 

“I should say he had! Why, three or four 
teams have been after him. He could get a try- 
out with Detroit tomorrow if he wanted it. But 
Tom says he’s going to college next Fall, and, of 
course, he wants to play ball there.” 

“I should think he would. I wish I thought I 
could go to college, Jack.” 

“Why can’t you? In another year you’ll have 
so much money saved up that you’ll be able to do 
as you like! The stand’s doing better every 
month, and the first thing we know we’ll be mil- 
lionaires ! ’ ’ 

“We fooled ourselves about Young, all right, 
didn’t we! Honest, Jack, I expected long before 
this that he’d have shown a yellow streak.” 

“Me, too. And the funny thing is that I still 


FIRST BASE FAULKNER 183 

don’t altogether trust him. But everything 
seems perfectly straight, doesn’t it?” 

“ Absolutely. I don’t believe he’s done a thing 
shady except swipe a box of cigarettes now and 
then. I guess he’s about as good a fellow as we 
could have found for the job.” 

“He sure is. By the way, when we engaged 
him we said something about giving him a raise, 
didn’t we, if he got along all right?” 

“Yes, we did, and I suppose we’d better be 
thinking about doing it. Still, he’s been working 
only about two months. We’ll let it go until next 
month, Jack.” 

“All right. I dare say he isn’t looking for a 
raise just yet. He hasn’t made any hints to me, 
anyway. The thing that puzzles me, though, is 
how he can wear the flossy clothes he does on ten 
dollars per. He’s almost as beautiful as Frank 
Foley!” 

“I can answer that,” replied Joe drily. “He 
has accounts with a lot of the stores. A chap 
came in the other day when I was at the stand 
and wanted me to pay a bill of sixteen dollars 
for underwear and ties and things. Thought I 
was Young. I told him to try again. If he has 
many bills around town like that one he won’t be 
with us much longer, I guess, and that’s one 


184 


FIRST BASE FAULKNER 


reason I think it’ll be just as well to wait a bit 
longer before we make that raise. It doesn’t do 
much good to raise a chap ’s wages and have him 
leave you in the lurch a few weeks later.” 

‘ ‘ Well, if he’s got creditors after him,” laughed 
Jack, 4 ‘he needs the raise pretty badly right now! 
But I guess you’re right. We’ll wait and see 
what happens. He’s an idiot to blow in money 
like that for pink-striped shirts and things. I’d 
love to hitch him and Handsome Frank up and 
drive them tandem down Main Street some after- 
noon!” And Jack chuckled merrily. 

“Do you suppose,” asked Joe, after a minute’s 
silence, “that it would do to ask Bat for a try- 
out at first? I mean, tell him I’ve played the 
position and think I could do it again; make a 
bid for the job to substitute Foley.” 

“Don’t do it. Bat wouldn’t like it a bit, old 
man. Bat’s peculiar that way. Tell you what 
you might do, though. You might sort of hint 
something of the sort to Sam. Sam wouldn’t 
mind it, I guess. I believe I’d do that, Joey, some 
time before long. As I’ve previously remarked, 
something’s just got to be done about Mr. Foley 
if we don’t want him to cop that bet we made.” 

“I don’t see,” said Joe innocently, “how that 
interests me any. 1 didn’t bet with him.” 


FIRST BASE FAULKNER 185 

4 ‘ Why, yon — you — you ungrateful chump ! ’ ’ 
exclaimed Jack. “Do you mean to say that 
you’re going to leave me in the lurch? Didn’t 
you agree to oust Frank from first base? Didn’t 
you ” 

“No, I didn’t,” Joe laughed. “That was your 
idea entirely. Besides, what would I get out of 
it? You couldn’t cut that bat-case in half, could 
you?” 

“I’ll let you use it on Sundays,” replied Jack 
generously. 

Joe pondered for several days the plan of con- 
fiding to Sam Craig his desire to become a first 
baseman. Once he got his courage almost to the 
sticking-point, but a troublesome conviction that 
Sam would think him “fresh” held him back. 
And then, before he again reached the determina- 
tion to take the plunge, events made it unneces- 
sary. 

During the last half of April, Amesville played 
three games, one with Grammar School on a 
Thursday and two with outside teams of no great 
importance. In the Grammar School contest 
High School was again easily victorious, although 
the score was somewhat more even than in the 
first meeting. The Grammar School pitcher who 
had been so unmercifully drubbed came back 


186 


FIRST BASE FAULKNER 


strong and proved rather a hard nut to crack, 
holding High School to eight hits for a total of 
twelve bases in the seven innings he pitched. The 
score at the end was 8 to 3. The team journeyed 
to Sinclair one Saturday and played the high 
school team there, winning easily, with Tom Pol- 
lock pitching five innings and Toby Williams four, 
by the tune of 11 to 5. On the last Saturday of 
the month Corby High School came to Amesville 
and was w T alloped 14 to 6, Carl Moran presiding 
on the mound for eight innings and pitching very 
good ball until a tired arm threatened to bring 
his downfall, and Tom Pollock was hurried to the 
rescue. 

Every afternoon, save when an outside team 
was to be played, the First Team and Scrubs came 
together and some very close, hotly-contested 
battles ensued. Oddly enough, Joe’s first oppor- 
tunity to show what he could do as a first base- 
man found him playing with the Scrubs. One 
afternoon the Scrubs’ regular first baseman was 
missing and when its shortstop got mixed up at 
second with Sidney Morris and was helped off 
the field with a badly- wrenched knee, the Scrubs ’ 
coach, a high school graduate named Meyers, 
was in a quandary and was forced to borrow a 
player from the First. The choice fell on Joe, 


FIRST BASE FAULKNER 187 

and as Joe was a stranger to the shortstop posi- 
tion Meyer pnt his third baseman there, trans- 
ferred his first baseman to third, and pnt Joe 
at first. Joe was rather too nervous during the 
first inning to make much of a showing, but, for- 
tunately, Carl Moran, who was pitching for the 
Scrubs, held the First fairly tight and Joe was 
able to get by without anything worse than a 
doubtful error when he failed to get a wide throw 
in time to make the out. But in the succeeding 
innings, five in all, he covered the bag in a style 
which opened Mr. Talbot’s eyes and brought good 
words from his friends. If he did not have the 
reach that Frank Foley had, he was so much 
quicker than that other youth that he quite made 
up for the fact, while at bat he was easily the 
superior of that player. Joe did not, however, 
greatly distinguish himself with the stick that 
afternoon, for Tom Pollock pitched the whole six 
innings for the First, and Tom, when he tried, 
could hold any fellow on the team helpless. Still, 
Joe did do better than any other member of the 
Scrubs, getting two hits, one of the scratch vari- 
ety, as his earnings. The First Team nosed out 
of the game with a two-run lead, but had to work 
hard that day for their victory. 

The result of Joe’s exhibition with the Scrubs 


188 


FIRST BASE FAULKNER 


that afternoon was that two days later he was 
substituted for Foley in the fifth inning of a game 
with the Second Team, much to Foley’s surprise 
and, I fancy, disgust. Again he got through cred- 
itably, although a poor heave from Buster Healey 
got past him on one occasion and led him in the 
subsequent confusion to himself make a hurried 
and ragged throw to third. But the misplay did 
not appear in the results and he more than atoned 
with two stops that brought applause from the 
stand and the benches and by lacing out a two- 
bagger in the fourth inning that sent two runs 
across. 

Jack was jubilant as they walked back to town 
after that game. ‘ ‘ You Ve been and gone and done 
it, Joey!” he said. “ You’ve shown Bat at last 
that you’re the man for the job! I saw him and 
Sam put their heads together when you cracked 
out that two-bagger, and I’ll bet you anything 
they mean to find a place for you. Why shouldn’t 
they, anyway ? Don’t they need all the batting 
strength they can get? And don’t you hit a lot 
better than Foley, or three or four others, for 
that matter? What Bat’s trying to do now, I 
guess, is to figure out some way of getting you 
in the line-up. Well, he will either have to put 
you at first or second. Hale has made good at 


FIRST BASE FAULKNER 


189 


third, all right. If I were he I’d switch Buster 
and Gordon Smith around. Gordon’s a good 
shortstop, of course, but I dare say he could play 
second just as well. That would give Buster a 
chance to redeem himself, you see. Still, that 
wouldn’t make a place for you, Joey.” Jack 
frowned intently a moment and then continued: 
“No, sir, the only thing to do is to shelve Frank!” 

“Don’t be an idiot! Why should he shelve 
Foley? Foley can play first better than I can.” 

“That’s all right. With a week’s practice you 
could do just as well as he’s doing. And when 
it comes to batting you’re away ahead of him. 
And I want to tell you, Joey, that what this team 
is going to need when we run up against Peters- 
burg is fellows who can roll the pill! Well, any- 
way, you wait and see. Something will happen 
to Handsome Frank before long, mark my words. 
I’m a prophet, Joey!” 

“You’re a chump, you mean. Walk up and 
let’s get somewhere. Speaking of profits, I’d 
like to find out what ours have been today. ’ ’ 

“All you think of is filthy money,” mourned 
Jack. 

“And all you think of,” Joe retorted, “is that 
old bat-case!” 


CHAPTER XV 


BUSTER DROPS OUT 

The following day the team went to Crawford 
Mills and played a nine made up of the youths 
of that small but busy town. About half of the 
members were high school boys and the rest 
were from the offices of the steel mills, many of 
the latter youths of twenty or even twenty-two 
years. In the field the Crawford Mills aggrega- 
tion presented a peculiar spectacle, for their 
shortstop was a chubby youth of no more than 
fifteen, while their catcher was at least twenty- 
one, and their pitcher, a sort of human bean-pole, 
wore a mustache! Lack of practice, however, 
was against the “Millers” and, although Ames- 
ville had difficulty with that pitcher, she never- 
theless won out in the seventh inning with a mix- 
ture of hits, daring base running, and errors, the 
latter by the opponent. 

Joe, who had had hopes since the day before of 
getting another chance at first base, was consid- 
erably disappointed at being left idle on the 
190 


FIRST BASE FAULKNER 191 

bench until the eighth inning, when he was put 
in to run for Tom Pollock, that youth having 
turned his ankle at first base. That was all the 
playing Joe did, and he sat disgruntledly during 
the rest of the game and watched Amesville hold 
her lead and ultimately emerge the victor, eight 
runs to six. 

The “Millers” were good losers and cheered 
the visitors heartily when the contest was over, 
and their captain, the tall, mustached pitcher, 
shook hands with Tom Pollock and hoped his 
ankle wasn’t hurt much. Tom was able to re- 
assure him. Then a request was made for a 
second game at Amesville, and Sam Craig agreed 
to see what could be done about one. High School 
journeyed home at dusk, very well satisfied with 
an almost errorless performance — Buster Healey 
had alone sinned — and very hungry. Joe was 
wedged in between Jack and Walter Cummings 
in the trolley car going back, with Frank Foley 
directly in front on the next seat. Jack, who had 
outshone himself that afternoon in left field, was 
feeling especially cheerful and, before they had 
been buzzing across country very long, began to 
heckle Handsome Frank, to the amusement of the 
others within hearing. 

“Say, Frank,” he began, leaning over, “we’ve 


192 


FIRST BASE FAULKNER 


got a fellow working for us at the news-stand 
who makes you look like a faded leaf, old top. 
Honest, Frank, he’s got it all over you as a swell 
dresser. You’ll have to look to your laurels 
right smart. That’s no josh, either. Why, that 
fellow’s got a pink-and-green-striped shirt that 
would simply fill you with envy ! ’ ’ 

“ Hello, Jack,” was the response. “You jab- 
bering again?” 

“Yep, jabbering again, Frankie. Listen. 
You’re months behind the style, old chap. 
They’re not wearing those all-leather shoes any 
more. You want to get some with cloth tops. 
They’re the only proper dress for the Johnnies. 
I’m afraid you haven’t read your fashion journal 
this month!” 

“The trouble with you and Faulkner,” replied 
Frank over his shoulder, “is that you dress so 
like tramps that when you see a fellow with a 
clean collar on you don’t know what to make of 
it!” 

That produced chuckles from the nearby seats. 
Jack smiled serenely. “Yes, there’s something 
in what you say. That ’s where you have it on the 
rest of us, Frank. Your collars are so plaguey 
high that no one can see whether they’re clean 
or not on top! But what I’m telling you about 


FIRST BASE FAULKNER 193 

the cloth-top shoes is right as rain. They’re posi- 
tively the last cry. Get after ’em, Frank.” 

“ Don’t worry about my shoes,” was the reply. 
‘ ‘ Look after your own, Jack. There’s a place 
down town where you can get them shined for a 
nickel. You and your partner had better drop in 
there some day.” 

“They’d never do Jack’s for a nickel,” re- 
marked Buster. “His feet are too big.” 

“Oh, I shine mine at home,” said Jack cheer- 
fully. “I save a nickel every week or two, you 
see. When I get a quarter saved up I’m going to 
get one of those manicures like Frank’s. They’re 
great ! Every time he puts his hand up you get 
blinded.” 

“Every time you put your hand up,” chuckled 
Frank, “I think someone’s dead!” 

“Now what’s he mean by that?” asked Jack, 
as the others laughed. 

“You’d better dry up,” advised Joe amusedly. 

“Good advice, Faulkner,” Foley commented. 
“Wash his hands when you get him home. Your 
own, too.” 

“I’ll leave it to the crowd if my hands aren’t 
clean,” exclaimed Jack indignantly, holding them 
up for inspection. “I washed them only yester- 
day. Frank, you’re almost insulting. For two 


194 FIRST BASE FAULKNER 

cents I’d disarrange your scarf and break yonr 
heart!” 

“Oh, cut it out,” growled Foley. “You’re not 
smart; you just think you are. I wear whatever 
clothes I please, and it doesn’t concern you.” 

“Doesn’t it, though? My word! It concerns 
me a lot, old chap. Many’s the time I’ve got up 
in the morning feeling blue and depressed and 
then seen you glide by in a pink shirt and a green 
hat and white spats and perked right up, Frank ! 
Why, you’re our little blob of local colour, that’s 
what you are. We’re all better for you, Frank. 
Amesville would be pale and commonplace with- 
out you. Why, just the other day I walked along 
a block or two behind you inhaling the aroma 
that floated back, and life seemed different right 
away. That was the day everyone was call- 
ing up the gas company and complaining of 
leaks!” 

This sally brought a burst of laughter that dis- 
sipated the final remnant of Foley’s good-temper, 
and he turned to face Jack with an angry coun- 
tenance. Unfortunately, he caught the grin on 
Joe’s features and straightway transferred his 
attention to that youth. 

“What are you smirking about, you fresh 
kid?” he demanded. “You go and sell your five- 


FIRST BASE FAULKNER 


195 


cent cigars and let me alone. You’re a joke, any- 
way, and you’re the biggest joke when you try 
to play ball. You grin at me and I’ll reach back 
there and wipe it off !” 

“Cut it out, Frank,” said Tom Pollock from 
the seat behind Joe’s. “Keep your temper, old 
man. No one’s hurting you.” 

“Well, those cheap guys can keep their mouths 
closed, then. I wasn’t saying anything to them, 
was I?” 

“You began it,” retorted Jack mendaciously. 
“You’re jealous because I told you there was a 
fellow in town with cloth-top shoes. I only said 
it for your own good, and ” 

“Dry up, Jack,” commanded Tom. “You’re 
tiresome.” 

“All right,” grieved Jack. “That’s all the 
thanks I get for trying to be kind and helpful!” 

Just then they had to pile out and change to 
another trolley, and when they were reseated 
Jack discovered that Foley had placed himself 
the length of the car away. He sighed. “No 
more fun,” he murmured. “I shall go to 
sleep.” 

That incident, unimportant as it seemed, bore 
results. Frank Foley evidently reached the con- 
clusion that it was Joe and not Jack who was at 


196 FIRST BASE FAULKNER 

the bottom of the heckling, for whenever they 
met Joe was regarded with scowling dislike. It 
didn’t bother Joe much, but it amused Jack im- 
mensely. “Honestly, Joey,” he would chuckle, 
“you oughtn’t to put me up to saying things 
about Frank. It isn’t nice. If he speaks to me 
about it I’ll just have to tell him that I don’t 
approve of it a bit.” 

‘ ‘ I wish you and your Frank were at the bottom 
of the river,” replied Joe vigorously. “It’s bad 
enough being after a fellow’s position without 
having a lot of ill-feeling besides. If I should 
beat him out, either this year or next, he ’d always 
think I did it unfairly, I suppose.” 

“I’m afraid he would,” grieved Jack. “Try 
and be decent to him, Joey. Don’t make fun of 
him the way you do. The things you say ” 

“Oh, dry up!” muttered Joe. Jack obeyed, 
chuckling wickedly. 

High School continued to win most of her 
games, coming a cropper now and then, however, 
as when she received a decisive beating at the 
hands of Lima. Amesville was shut out for the 
first time that season, while her opponent man- 
aged to get seven runs. Toby Williams started 
for Amesville, but lasted only three innings. By 
that time Lima had four runs to her credit. Tom 


FIRST BASE FAULKNER 


197 


Pollock kept her at bay until the sixth inning, 
when an error by Healey, coming on the heels of 
a dropped fly by Cummings, let three more runs 
across. Amesville was utterly unable to bunch 
the few hits she managed to make off the Lima 
pitcher and so travelled home with banners trail- 
ing. The direct outcome of that game was the 
replacing of Buster Healey at second base with 
young Farquhar. Farquhar, however, only lasted 
through three days of practice and was then 
relegated to the Scrubs. In his place Coach Tab 
hot requisitioned George Peddie, and Peddie was 
tried at third while Hale went to second. Healey 
was heartbroken. It was understood that he was 
to have his position again as soon as he recovered 
from his present slump, but Buster viewed the 
situation hopelessly. 

One afternoon when he and Joe were together 
on the bench during the first inning of a game 
with the Scrubs he confided his perplexities. “I 
don’t know what the dickens is the matter with 
me, Joe,” he said. “I didn’t use to have any 
trouble. Last year I played through with only 
fourteen errors all season, and that’s not so bad, 
is it? But this spring” — he shook his head 
puzzledly — “I can’t even seem to bat any more. 
It’s funny, too. I hit where the ball looks to be 


198 


FIRST BASE FAULKNER 


and never touch it. Same way in fielding. I see 
the old thing shooting along to me and make a 
grab for it and as often as not it gets clean past. 
The other day, when I plugged to Frank that 
time, I aimed as straight as you please and got 
the ball away all right. I know that ! But when 
it got to first it was two yards to the left ! ’ ’ He 
examined his hands as if seeking a solution to his 
trouble there. Joe, interested in the new batting 
arrangement that Mr. Talbot had introduced that 
afternoon, heard Buster’s lamentations with but 
half an ear. He nodded sympathetically, though, 
when young Peddie had been retired at first, mak- 
ing the third out. 

“It’s too bad,” he said. 4 ‘What do you sup- 
pose the reason is?” 

“I’m telling you I don’t know,” replied Buster 
a trifle impatiently. “Maybe I’m not well. I — I 
have headaches sometimes.” He made the ac- 
knowledgment rather shamefacedly. Buster 
didn’t have much sympathy for fellows with ail- 
ments. 

For the first time Joe’s interest was really 
aroused. “Whereabouts?” he asked quickly. 

“Whereabouts what?” 

“Whereabouts are the headaches?” 

“In my head, of course! Oh, you mean— Well, 


FIRST BASE FAULKNER 


199 


sort of up here." He placed his hands over his 
temples. “ Maybe ,’ ’ he added with a grin, 
1 1 maybe I'm studying too hard." 

“You get a ball," said Joe, “and come over 
here with me." 

“What for!" 

“Never mind what for, Buster. Come on." 

Buster borrowed a baseball from the bag and 
followed J oe across to the stretch used by pitch- 
ers when they warmed up. “What's the big 
idea?" he asked. 

“Shoot it to me," said Joe. He held his hands 
in front of his chest. “Don't curve it, Buster. 
Just put it to me straight." 

“It's got to curve some," objected Buster. 
“Here you are." 

Joe made a stab well to the left of him and 
saved himself a trip down the field. 

“Try again," he said, throwing the ball back. 
“Try to hit my hands, Buster. See if you can't 
throw right into them." 

“Come a little nearer. I can't see your hands 
so well. That's better." 

Buster sped the ball off again, and again it 
went wide, although not so wide as before. When 
the ball came back to him he made rather an awk- 
ward task of catching it. Joe followed the ball. 


200 


FIRST BASE FAULKNER 


4 4 Let’s have it,” he said quietly. Buster 
yielded it, troubledly. 4 ‘Catch,” said Joe and 
tossed the ball to the other from some four feet 
away. Buster put up his hands quickly, his fore- 
head a mass of wrinkles and his eyes half-closed, 
and the ball tipped his fingers and struck his 
chest. 

“What are you scowling for?” asked Joe. 

“Scowling?” 

“Yes, your forehead’s all screwed up. Your 
eyes, too. Can’t you catch a ball without doing 
that?” 

“I don’t know. I guess so.” 

“Try it.” This time Buster caught, but, as 
before, he frowned and squinted terrifically over 
the operation. 

“That’ll do,” said Joe. “You go and see an 
oculist, Buster.” 

“Oculist!” 

“Surest thing you know. Something’s wrong 
with your eyes. You can’t see, Buster!” 

“Great Scott!” murmured the other. “I — I 
believe you’re dead right, Joe!” 

“I know I am. I had headaches like yours a 
couple of years ago and my mother sent me to 
a doctor. He snipped a couple of muscles and I 
was all right.” 


FIRST BASE FAULKNER 201 

“ Snipped! Say, didn't it hurt?" 

‘ ‘ Mm, a little ; not much. Maybe your trouble 's 
something else, though. Maybe you need glasses, 
Buster." 

“Glasses! Gee, wouldn't I be a sight with 
glasses ? Do you really think that 's what 's wrong, 
Joe?" 

“Positive! You can't throw a ball straight 
because you don't see what you're throwing at 
plainly. Now, can you?" 

Buster considered a moment. Then: “I don't 
believe I do, come to think of it. Things are — 
are sort of indistinct at a distance. You don't 
suppose" — Buster faltered — “you don't suppose 
I'm going to be blind, do you?" 

“Blind your granny! You go and see an ocu- 
list and he will fix you up right as rain. Do it 
tomorrow, Buster. I'll wager you’ll be playing 
second again in a fortnight." 

“Honest, Joe? Say, why didn't I think of my 
eyes? Why, now when I think of it, I know 
mighty well that I don't see like I did a year ago. 
Why, last Spring I could see to the end of the 
field as plainly as anything!" 

“Can't you today?" asked Joe. 

“No, I can't. I can see, all right, but things 
are sort of hazy. What's a cataract like, Joe?" 


202 


FIRST BASE FAULKNER 


“I never had one. Neither have you. Don’t 
be an idiot, Buster. Just do as I tell you.” 

“You bet I will!” They were back on the 
bench now. “What gets me, Joe, is why I never 
thought it might be my eyes ! ’ 9 

“I guess a fellow thinks of his eyes the last 
thing of all,” replied Joe wisely. “I know when 

I was having those headaches ” 

But a further account of his experiences was 
interrupted by the coach. 

“Faulkner, you take first. That’ll do for to- 
day, Foley. Hale, you go back to third. Peddie, 
see what you can do at second.” 

Joe played four innings at the first sack that 
afternoon, conscious all the time of Frank Foley’s 
malevolent glare from the bench. But he didn’t 
allow that to worry him much and covered the 
base in good shape. The following afternoon it 
was Joe who started at first and Foley who took 
his place later on. Perhaps the fear of being 
superseded began to wear on Foley, for he 
played poorly during the three innings he 
was on duty, and Jack exulted on the way 
home. 

“You’ve got him on the run, Joey,” he said. 
“Keep it up, old man! Remember that bat-case 
is yours every Sunday!” 


FIRST BASE FAULKNER 


203 


“Hang your old bat-case, Jack! I wish they’d 
put me on the second. This thing of taking a 
chap’s job away isn’t funny.” 

“To the victor belong the spoils,” replied 
Jack untroubledly. “Frank won’t let sentiment 
interfere with getting his place back if he can, 
Joey, so why should you ” 

“But he had it first.” 

“And couldn’t keep it!” 

“Just the same, I don’t like it. I think I’ll 
quit.” 

“You think you’ll quit!” exclaimed the other 
in horrified tones. “You’re crazy underfoot like 
a radish! Quit nothing! What about that 
bat ” 

Joe turned on him menacingly. “If you say 
‘bat-case’ again I’ll punch you,” he threat- 
ened. 

“Oh, all right. I won’t. I was only going to 
ask what about that receptacle for ” 

Joe chased him half a block. When peace had 
been restored Joe asked: “Have you seen 
Buster Healey today?” 

“No, he wasn’t out,” replied Jack. 

“I know he wasn’t. I’m sort of worried about 
Buster. I didn’t say anything about it yester- 
day, Jack, but I’m afraid he’s got something 


201 


FIRST BASE FAULKNER 


wrong with his eyes.” He told of the inci- 
dent of the day before, ending up with: “I 
don’t know much about cataracts, Jack, but I 
wouldn’t be awfully surprised if that was the 
trouble.” 

“ You ’re a cheerful little chap, aren’t you? 
Fellows don’t have those things, Joey. Old ladies 
have ’em when they’re about eighty. My grand- 
mother had ’em, and I know.” 

‘ ‘Well, maybe. I hope you’re right. Anyway, 
I’m going to call him up and find out what the 
oculist said.” 

Events, however, proved that unnecessary, for 
when they turned into the Adams Building there 
was Buster leaning against the counter in 
conversation with the sprightly Mr. Chester 
Young. 

“I was waiting for you, Joe,” he announced. 
‘ ‘ Thought you ’d like to know you were dead right 
yesterday. I went to the doctor man this after- 
noon and he says I’ve got my — my Oh, thun- 
der, I’ve forgotten it!” 

‘‘Myopia?” 

“That’s it! He says I’m so blamed near- 
sighted that ’s it ’s a wonder I can blow my nose ! 
But it isn’t cataracts, anyway. Say, honest, Joe, 
I was scared blue last night. I told my mother 


FIRST BASE FAULKNER 205 

what you’d said and she was certain sure I had 
cataracts ! ’ ’ 

“I’m glad you haven’t. What’s the oculist 
going to do about it?” 

4 4 He says he can cure me in a few months. I 
have to go every day for a while and look through 
a sort of machine he has. And I may have to 
wear glasses, too. And” — and by this time Bus- 
ter’s cheerfulness was ebbing fast — “he says I 
can’t play ball any more for a while. Isn’t that 
the limit?” 

“Too bad, Buster. But if he can cure the 
trouble ” 

“He says he can. Says when you catch them 
young, these myopias, you can chase ’em out of 
the system, or words like that. I suppose I 
oughtn’t to kick, because it might have been a 
heap worse, but it ’s hard having to give up play- 
ing baseball.” 

“No use troubling about that,” said Jack, who 
had joined them. “You couldn’t play anyhow, 
Buster, until you got your eyes fixed up right. 
Much better give it up this spring and go back 
to it next.” 

“I suppose so. I haven’t any choice, anyway. 
Say, Joe, I’m certainly much obliged to you for 
tipping me off. What gets me ” 


206 


FIRST BASE FAULKNER 


“ Joe’s a wise guy,” said Jack. “What he 
doesn’t know isn’t worth knowing.” 

“Yes, but what gets me ” 

“Oh, that was nothing for Joey! Solomon in 
all his glory had nothing on Joseph!” 

“For the love of mud, Jack, shut up ! Buster’s 
trying to tell you ” 

“I was going to say,” began Buster patiently 
again, “that what gets me is why I didn’t realise 
myself what the trouble was. That’s what gets 
me ! You’d think that when a fellow couldn’t see 
decently he’d take a tumble and ” 

“Sure, it’s a wonder you haven’t tumbled lots 
of times,” agreed Jack solicitously. 

“Oh, you make me tired,” grumbled Buster. 
“You can’t be serious a minute. If you had my — 
my Say, what is it again, Joe!” 

“Myopia, Buster.” 

“From the Greek, Buster; myo, close, and 
opsis, sight. My word, I wish old Dennison could 
have heard me!” 

“Yes, you’re a swell Greek scholar!” jeered 
Buster. “Well, I just thought you’d like to hear 
about it, Joe. And I hope you get my place at 
second — if you want it.” 

“Give it to Foley,” said Jack. “Joe doesn’t 
need it. But, honestly, Buster, I’m dead sorry 


FIRST BASE FAULKNER 207 
you’re out of it this year. We’re going to miss 
you, old man. But you’ll be in better shape for 
next, eh?” 

“If Frank’s going to have my place,” replied 
Buster dismally, “I’m sorrier than ever!” 


CHAPTER XVI 


FOLEY IS WORRIED 

The next day Joe found himself playing third 
base. Gordon Smith was changed from shortstop 
to second and George Peddie was at short. But 
this arrangement lasted only a few innings. 
Peddie was out of place at short and Joe was 
equally miscast as third baseman. Then Steve 
Hale was put in at short and Joe and Frank 
Foley were instructed to change places. The 
game with the Scrubs was finished with that ar- 
rangement of the infield, and, while it produced 
better results than any previous combination, 
still it was far from perfect. After all, Hale was 
a third baseman first, last, and all the time, and 
Foley was not fast enough to fill his shoes. Joe 
secretly hoped that the arrangement would last, 
for he was in possession of his coveted position 
at first, and, in order that it might, he played the 
very best he knew how that afternoon and won 
applause more than once. Now that there were 
no wild pegs from Buster Healey to be stopped 
the position was far easier. 

208 


FIRST BASE FAULKNER 209 

But the next day Foley was back at first in 
practice and Hale was once more cavorting 
around third. Gordon Smith was reinstated to 
his old position at short and the task of covering 
the middle bag fell to George Peddie. That, of 
course, put Joe once more on the bench, and once 
more Joe gave way to discouragement and Jack 
about made up his mind to lose that wager. But 
neither Coach Talbot nor Captain Craig was 
satisfied with a line-up that left out the hitting 
possibilities of Joe Faulkner, and when the two 
teams had battled through four innings Foley 
was taken out and again Joe went to first. By 
now the school in general, or as much of it as 
followed the fortunes of the baseball club, was 
watching the struggle for first base position with 
much interest. It seemed as though Coach Talbot 
had decided to give the two contestants equal 
chances and let them decide the matter them- 
selves! Every day Joe and Frank Foley divided 
the position. It is not to be denied that Foley 
was still a more brilliant first baseman than his 
rival. Foley had a long reach that helped him 
considerably, had more experience, and was, in 
fact, a first-class man for the position. It was at 
the bat that he was forced to play second fiddle. 
Joe could outhit him two to one. Not only that, 


210 


FIRST BASE FAULKNER 


but on bases Foley was awkward and slow. He 
had a positive genius for being caught off the 
bags, and his attempts to slide were sad failures. 
Each of the boys had his following amongst the 
“ fans’ ’ and whether Faulkner or Foley was to 
play first base in the Petersburg game became a 
question that was hotly argued. 

Foley had at last realised that, contrary to his 
early season conviction, he did not hold the posi- 
tion securely ; that if he meant to retain it he had 
to play his hardest and, if possible, improve his 
batting. It was something of a blow to Foley’s 
self-conceit, for last year he had faced no real 
rival and had come to look on the place as his. 
He was no “ quitter,” and he made a hard fight 
of it. He tried his level best to increase his bat- 
ting average, but without much success. He had 
heretofore considered that it was enough to field 
his position and leave the hitting to others, and 
now he discovered that batting was not a trick 
to be learned in a few short weeks. 

Amesville played every Saturday save one 
until the middle of May, reaching that period 
with a showing of seven wins, three defeats, and 
one tie. The missed game was with Curtis School, 
rain prohibiting. Of the regular schedule of seven- 
teen games nine remained, and after the middle 


FIRST BASE FAULKNER 211 

of the month Wednesday afternoon contests 
began. The 6 i Millers ’ ’ secured their return game, 
coming to Amesville on less than a day’s notice 
when Arkwright High School announced its in- 
ability to till her date. The 4 4 Millers” were again 
beaten, 9 to 3, Tom Pollock pitching most of the 
game for the home team. Joe played five of the 
nine innings at first, getting six put-outs, an as- 
sist, and no errors as his share, thereby bettering 
Foley’s record for one less inning by two put- 
outs and an assist. At bat Joe had a gala day, 
being up three times and securing as many hits. 
Foley, as usual, failed to come across with any- 
thing. It was after that Wednesday contest that 
Joe’s stock arose appreciably and Jack got Tom 
Pollock to put that bat-case on the counter for 
him to examine! Perhaps, however, that game 
with the ‘ ‘ Millers ’ ’ was mainly notable for bring- 
ing into prominence young Peddie. Peddie, now 
regularly established at second, performed in a 
way that was little short of marvellous, taking 
part in two doubles and working with Smith even 
more smoothly than Buster Healey had ever done. 
He also secured a timely hit to add to his laurels. 
George Peddie, in short, was the hero of that 
encounter. 

The weather settled down to warm days that 


212 FIRST BASE FAULKNER 
made playing a delight and that brought out the 
best in everyone. High School’s batting im- 
proved remarkably during the last two weeks in 
May, and the pitchers began to come into their 
own. Toby Williams showed more improvement 
than either of the others, but was still far from 
being the pitcher that Tom Pollock was. Carl 
Moran went through six or seven innings occa- 
sionally without misadventure, but was not yet 
equal to twirling a full game. Behind the bat 
Sam Craig was still the same reliable, heady 
player as ever, while Jack Speyer was rapidly 
getting experience as a substitute. Amesville 
had a fine outfield in Sidney Morris, Jack Strobe, 
and Walter Cummings. Sidney and Jack were 
especially clever players, with Cummings prom- 
ising to be quite as good with more experience. 
On the whole, the school looked forward to the 
Petersburg game on the twenty-first of June with 
more confidence than usual. Petersburg had won 
a scant majority of the annual contests to date 
and was always considered dangerous. But this 
year, with a fast, smoothly-working infield, two 
first-class pitchers, and an outfield of proved ex- 
cellence, Amesville considered that she was more 
than the equal of her old rival. Someone, how- 
ever, has said that baseball is two-thirds skill and 


FIRST BASE FAULKNER 213 

one-third luck, and that one-third has often upset 
the wisest calculations. 

So far Jack and Frank Foley were nip-and- 
tuck in their race. Neither had missed a game. 
Jack tried to say that since Foley scarcely ever 
played an entire contest through he was already 
defeated, but Handsome Frank — more handsome 
than ever now that Summer was at hand, with its 
better opportunities for sartorial display — re- 
minded his rival of the terms of the wager. “I 
said I’d play in more games with outside teams 
than you would. I don’t have to play a game 
through from start to finish.” 

“It’s a good thing you don’t, then,” laughed 
Jack. “If you did I’d be carrying my bat around 
in that nice leather case right now! All right, 
old chap. Go to it. But you’ll have hard work 
stealing a game on me!” 

“Oh, I don’t know. You might break some- 
thing or have measles, Jack. I hear there’s lots 
of measles around town.” 

“Don’t worry. I’ve had ’em.” 

“I know, but some folks have them two or 
three times.” Foley grinned exasperatingly. 
“Haven’t you got a sort of rash on your forehead 
there now?” 

“ No, I haven ’t ! That ’s sunburn, you idiot ! ’ ’ 


214 


FIRST BASE FAULKNER 


“Well, take care of yourself, Jack. You never 
can tell what’s going to happen.” 

Foley sauntered away, a picturesque figure in 
immaculate blue serge and a pale yellow shirt, 
and Jack watched his departure with mingled 
sentiments of admiration and contempt. Of all 
the high-faluting dudes,” muttered Jack, “he’s 
the high-falutingest ! Did you see that brown 
straw hat, Chester, with the pleated silk scarf 
around it? Say, he’s gone you one better, hasn’t 
he?” 

The encounter had taken place in the lobby of 
the Adams Building on a Saturday morning. 
Foley and Mr. Chester Young, doubtless drawn 
together by their mutual fondness for startling 
attire, had become very good friends, and Foley 
was quite frequently to be found at the news- 
stand. Mr. Chester Young, flicking the ashes 
from his cigarette, smiled untroubledly. 

“Old stuff,” he said. “They were wearing 
those in the East last Summer. The latest straws 
are higher and just off the straw-colour. I’ve 
got one on the way. You have to send to Chicago 
for them.” 

Joe, who was taking stock of the cigars on 
hand, smiled and winked at his partner. “Oh, 
those are too cheap for Foley,” he said carelessly. 


FIRST BASE FAULKNER 


215 


‘ ‘ Cheap ! ’ ’ exclaimed Young. 4 4 Oh, yes, they’re 
cheap like anything! Ten dollars is what they 
stand you, Faulkner.” 

“For one?” gasped Jack. 

“Well, you didn’t think it was for a dozen, did 
you?” asked Young pityingly. “That lid Foley’s 
sporting cost about six. He thinks he’s a pretty 
swell little dresser, Foley does. Well, he ain’t 
so bad, only he just sort of misses it about every 
crack he makes. See his socks? Dark blue they 
were. They ain’t wearing colours this season.” 

“They’re not? Help!” Jack regarded his 
own brown stockings in dismay. “I’ve got to go 
home and change, Joe. Honest, this thing of 
keeping up with the styles is killing, isn’t it?” 

4 4 It don ’t trouble you much, ’ ’ said Mr. Chester 
Young indulgently. 4 4 If it did you’d call in that 
collar you’re wearing.” 

4 4 What’s the matter with my collar?” 

4 4 Nothing, only they don’t wear ’em like that 
now.” Young put a hand to his throat and pulled 
his terra-cotta silk scarf into place. 4 4 More like 
this.” 

4 4 Oh, I see,” said Jack. 4 4 Sort of low and 
rakish, eh? All right. Live and learn. Say, Joe, 
that thing you’re wearing is worse than mine. 
I should think you’d be ashamed of yourself!” 


216 


FIRST BASE FAULKNER 


“I’d be ashamed to be seen in one like his,” 
answered Joe. “Get Meyers and Fink and tell 
them to send ns a hundred Adams Building 
conchas and two boxes of Vistas panatellas, will 
you? Don’t forget to give these returns to the 
news company, Young, when they come today. 
I’ve been falling over them for two or three 
days.” 

“We’re out of City Hall post-cards,” said 
Young. “And we’re getting short on some of the 
others.” 

“They’re on order, thanks. That reminds me, 
Jack. Those chocolates aren’t as good as they 
sent us first. Guess we’d better switch back to 
the Cleveland folks. Their packages aren’t 
quite as dressy, but the chocolates are a lot 
better.” 

“There was a fellow in here just before you 
came,” observed Young, “trying to sell us candy. 
I told him to come back later. He had some new 
stuff, all right; glazed boxes with crimson rib- 
bons across ’em. Pretty good-looking line, I 
thought.” 

“Tell him we don’t want anything when he 
comes again. How are you off for magazines 
there, Young?” 

“Pretty fair. We’ve sold about twenty of 


FIRST BASE FAULKNER 


217 


those Murray’s. Ought to order more, I guess.’ ’ 

“All right. How many are there there?” 

“Four — no, five. They’ll sell today, I guess. 
And we’re short of Mid-Wests. Only two of 
those here.” 

“I’ll order twenty more Murray’s and ten Mid- 
Wests.” Joe reached for the telephone with one 
hand and searched for a nickel with the other. 
“The telephone company is after Mr. Adams to 
put in a couple of booths here, Jack. If he lets 
them do it it’ll make this ’phone cost us money. 
Hello! Amesville 430! As it is we’re making 
about seven dollars a month on this thing. 
Hello? News company? This is Adams Build- 
ing. Send around twenty Murray’s Monthlies 
and ten Mid- Wests this noon, will you? I beg 
your pardon? No, that’s all. Murray’s and — 
Yes, I think you’d better. Make it fifty Murray’s 
and twenty-five Mid-Wests after this. Good- 
bye.” Joe hung up the receiver and put the in- 
strument back in place, and when Mr. Chester 
Young had served a customer, remarked: 

“By the way, Young, you don’t seem to be 
keeping that gang of yours out of here much bet- 
ter. Yesterday there were six or seven hanging 
around. We’ve spoken two or three times about 
it, you know. We don’t want this to become a 


218 


FIRST BASE FAULKNER 


loafing place. Mr. Adams doesn’t like it, and we 
don’t, either.” 

‘ 4 Well, you can’t turn away custom, can you? 
Those guys spend their money with you, don’t 
they?” 

“Not a great deal, I guess,” replied Joe drily. 
“Anyhow, they don’t pay rent for this lobby, 
Young. Keep them moving, please.” 

“All right. But you’d better hire a ‘bouncer,’ 
Faulkner. I don’t get paid for insulting my 
friends.” 

“You tell your friends to come and see you 
somewhere else,” replied Joe tartly. “This place 
looks like a hog-wallow after that crowd has been 
standing around a while.” 

“Meaning my friends are hogs, eh?” Mr. 
Chester Young laughed, but not with amusement. 

“If they’re friends of yours, Chester,” said 
Jack, “you’d better shake them. They’re a cheap 
lot of corner loafers. They used to hang out 
around Foster ’s until they got on to the fact that 
they could come in here and keep warm. We 
don’t want them. Get that?” 

“Sure! After this as soon as a customer gets 
his change I’ll duck out from here and throw him 
through the door! That’s fine!” 

“Don’t talk sick,” said Jack shortly. “You 


FIRST BASE FAULKNER 


219 


know what we mean. If you don’t encourage 
them by talking with them they’ll go along, I 
guess. We don’t want Mr. Adams putting us out 
of here, you know.” 

Mr. Chester Young forebore to reply, but there 
was a world of eloquence in the way in which he 
puffed his cigarette and winked at the elevator 
attendant across the lobby. 

Later, when the chums were on their way to 
the field for the game with Morristown High 
School, they reverted to Mr. Chester Young. 
‘ ‘ What do you know about his paying ten dollars 
for a straw hat?” demanded Jack. 

‘ ‘ He’s probably adding about five to the 
price,” said Joe. “ Where would he get that 
much to pay for a hat? He certainly can’t do it 
on the wages we’re paying him.” 

‘‘You said he was having things charged, didn’t 
you?” 

“Yes, but he told us he was getting the hat 
from Chicago.” 

“Having Keller send for it, I dare say. Kel- 
ler’s is the place he buys hats, because I saw him 
in there one day looking at some. The first thing 
we know, Joey, the sheriff or someone will- be 
descending on us and taking away the stand!” 

“They can’t do fhat. We’re not responsible 


220 


FIRST BASE FAULKNER 


for his debts, thank goodness! What is pretty 
certain is that he must be getting near the end of 
his rope. We’ll have to be looking for a new clerk 
pretty soon, I guess.” 

“If he will han^f out until school is over we 
won’t have to have one. You can take the stand 
half the day and I can take it the other half.” 

“Yes, but that won’t be for nearly a month, 
and I don’t believe Mr. Chester Young will last 
that long.” 

“He will probably light out some fine day,” 
said Jack pessimistically, “with the cash-register 
under one arm and the showcase under the other. 
I try awfully hard to believe him a fine, honest 
youth, Joey, but I never can quite do it!” 


CHAPTER XVII 


IN THE TWELFTH INNING 

Joe started the game at first that afternoon and 
had a busy five innings, for Morristown was a 
hard-hitting aggregation and slammed Carl 
Moran all over the lot during two innings and 
then tried its best to do the same with Toby 
Williams. Sharp fielding alone allowed Carl to 
last as long as he did, and it was not until the 
fourth inning that the visitors got their first run 
across. In the meanwhile Amesville had scored 
twice, once in the first and once in the third. Sam 
Craig’s three-bagger, with George Peddie on 
first, did the trick in the first inning, and two hits 
and a stolen base accounted for the second run. 

It was a snappy game from start to finish, and 
a good-sized audience was on hand to enjoy it. 
Morristown played in hard luck during the first 
part of the contest, for, although she hit hard 
and often, her hits didn’t earn runs. In fact, it 
was a dropped ball at the plate that gave her her 
single tally in the fourth. Smith’s throw may 
221 


222 


FIRST BASE FAULKNER 


have been a bit low, but Sam Craig ought to have 
held it and had the runner out by a yard. He 
didn’t, however, and so when the home team came 
to bat in the last of that inning the score was 
2 to 1. 

The batting order had been changed subsequent 
to Buster Healey’s departure and Hale was hit- 
ting in fourth place, followed by Peddie, Craig, 
and Faulkner, or Foley. Cummings and the 
pitcher ended the list. The new arrangement had 
not, however, been producing very satisfactory 
results. In the fourth Steve Hale started off well 
by banging out a liner that was too hot for short- 
stop to hold and reaching his base before that 
player could recover the ball and peg it across. 
J oe had two strikes against him before he found 
one that he liked, and then hit a slow one to first 
and sacrificed Hale to second. Sam Craig fouled 
off three and finally flied out to left fielder. Cum- 
mings made the second out, third to first, and 
Toby Williams came up with the task of scoring 
Hale from second. Toby wasn’t very much of a 
batsman, although when he hit the ball usually 
travelled far. The Morristown pitcher had been 
putting the first delivery over time after time and 
Toby was instructed to go after it. He did and 
he got it, and it whizzed straight down the third 


FIRST BASE FAULKNER 


223 


base line, just out of reach of the baseman, and 
rolled gaily into deep left while Hale sprinted 
home and Toby reached second. Smith brought 
the inning to an end when, following Toby’s ex- 
ample, he hit the first ball pitched and slapped it 
squarely into the pitcher’s glove. 

Neither side scored in the fifth, although the 
visiting team got men on third and second on 
errors by Hale and Smith, and Jack Strobe got 
to first on a Texas Leaguer. In neither case could 
the following batsmen bring home the bacon. J oe 
yielded first base to Frank Foley when the sixth 
inning began and saw the rest of the game from 
the bench, save when, in the eighth, he caught 
Tom Pollock, who warmed up in case the visitors 
should develop a rally. But the game went 
through to the end with the score 3 to 1. Morris- 
town did her best to even things up in the eighth 
and ninth, but some one of the enemy always man- 
aged to get in front of the ball, and so, although 
the visitors knocked the ball to every part of the 
field, they had to submit to defeat. 

Amesville’s winning streak held for a fortnight 
and three other games were played and won. 
Then came the return contest with Lynton. The 
team travelled to the neighbouring town on a 
cloudy Saturday forenoon, much in doubt as to 


224 


FIRST BASE FAULKNER 


whether their journey would prove worth while. 
But when, after they had partaken of a hilarious 
dinner at the Lynton hotel, they started for the 
ball grounds, the sun broke through and for the 
rest of the afternoon tried its best to broil them. 
To Joe that was a memorable game, for it marked 
his elevation to the position of regular first base- 
man. That day, since hitters were needed badly, 
Frank Foley remained on the bench throughout 
the game, and Jack was jubilant. He had a fine 
time twitting Foley whenever he came to the 
bench, and when the seventh and eighth innings 
had passed and the deposed first baseman still 
squirmed uneasily there in idleness his temper, 
which had proved equal to Jack’s gibes during 
the early innings, quite deserted him and he ear- 
nestly begged Jack to come behind the stand for 
a few minutes and see what would happen ! But 
Jack declined the invitation, politely yet firmly, 
and Foley, angry clear through, was denied even 
that slight consolation. 

That was a pitchers’ battle. Tom Pollock 
twirled for Amesville, for Coach Talbot wanted 
the game, as, you may be certain, did the forty 
or fifty patriotic rooters who accompanied the 
team. Opposed to Tom was one Corrigan, a 
shock-headed youth who, it was more than sus- 


FIRST BASE FAULKNER 


225 


pected, would have had difficulty in proving him- 
self a high school pupil in good standing. 
Buster Healey, who was among the devoted 
youths who made the trip to Lynton, afterward 
said that he had heard that Corrigan was an im- 
ported article and that he was far more at home 
in Marion than in Lynton. That as may be, Cor- 
rigan could certainly pitch, as Amesville soon 
discovered. Not a safety was made off him until 
the third inning, when Tom Pollock smashed out 
a two-bagger that produced no result. Corrigan 
had .a slow ball that was the undoing of batsman 
after batsman. He mixed it up with fast ones 
and a couple of hooks and had the opposing team 
standing on their heads. And he fielded so well 
that, as Sam Craig remarked disgustedly once, 
the rest of the Lynton team might just as well 
have remained on the bench. 

But Corrigan had an opponent in Tom Pollock 
that was not to be despised. Perhaps, when all 
is said, Tom, for once, was outpitched that day 
if we go by the final score, but there was little 
to choose between the rival moundsmen. Tom 
proved better at the bat than did Corrigan, for 
the latter was a typical pitcher when he went to 
the plate and swung harmlessly at the first three 
deliveries and retired in a perfectly matter-of- 


226 


FIRST BASE FAULKNER 


fact way to the bench. If Amesville had trouble 
hitting Corrigan, Lynton had as much difficulty 
getting to Tom. Except for that two-bagger of 
Tom’s, not a hit was made by either side until 
the fifth. In the fourth two errors by the visitors 
put a Lynton runner as far as second, but he died 
there. Joe was guilty of one of those miscues 
when he dropped a perfectly good throw of 
Hale’s, and Smith made the other when he fum- 
bled Sam’s throw-down and let the runner steal 
second. Lynton made errors, too, but nothing 
came of them until the first of the fifth. 

In that inning Sam, the first man up, fouled 
out to catcher. Joe struck out and Cummings, 
with two strikes on him, swung desperately at a 
poor one and rolled it toward third base. Third 
baseman over-ran it, threw hurriedly and pegged 
wide of first, and Cummings legged it to second 
with lots of time to spare. Amesville ’s rooters 
became audible for almost the first time since 
Sam had made his hit, and Tom Pollock strode 
to the bat. Discretion seeming the better part of 
valor, Tom was promptly passed. That brought 
Gordon Smith up, with runners on first and sec- 
ond, and Gordon was not just the batter Coach 
Talbot would have chosen for the situation. But 
the shortstop proved, after all, the man for the 


FIRST BASE FAULKNER 


227 


job, for, after cunningly allowing Corrigan to 
get himself in a hole, he leaned against a fast 
ball and streaked it into short right, scoring Cum- 
mings and placing Tom on third. 

Sidney Morris tried very hard to come across, 
but Corrigan was too much for him, and Sidney 
fanned. One run, however, looked very big in 
that game, and Amesville breathed a bit easier 
until, in the last of the sixth, Lynton tied up the 
score by a combination of one hit, a barefaced 
steal of second and a sacrifice fly. One to one 
the score remained until the eighth. Then Corri- 
gan showed the first signs of weariness and 
passed Smith. Smith stole second when Morris 
tried for a hit and missed it, the catcher getting 
the throw away too late. Morris again fanned 
and Jack, who had determined to profit by his 
own advice to Joe, shortened his swing and man- 
aged to connect with one of Corrigan’s offerings. 
The hit was pretty scratchy, but it placed Smith 
on third and left Jack himself safe on first. Hale 
fouled off two, spoiling as many attempted steals 
by Jack, and finally bunted toward the box. Corri- 
gan held Smith at third and threw out the runner 
at first. With Peddie up there seemed a chance' 
for a tally, for Peddie had been delivering the 
goods quite regularly. But when Corrigan had 


228 


FIRST BASE FAULKNER 


scored two strikes against him the outlook dark- 
ened and Sam Craig, coaching at third, sent 
Smith to the plate on the wind-up. But Corrigan 
was too old a bird to be unsteadied and he 
slammed the ball swiftly to the catcher and Smith 
was nailed a yard away. 

Lynton went out in one, two, three order in her 
half and the ninth started with the score still 1 
to 1. Peddie struck out and Sam walked. Joe 
sacrificed. Cummings hit past third baseman, 
but Sam Craig was out at the plate on a fine 
throw-in by left fielder. The tenth inning was 
profitless to both sides. In the first of the eleventh 
Corrigan wobbled a little and a base on balls fol- 
lowed by a safe bunt placed two runners on bases. 
But Morris, Jack, and Steve Hale went out in 
order. It was Tom Pollock’s turn to let down 
and he did it until Lynton had men on second and 
third with but one out. After that, however, Tom 
steadied, fanning the next batter and causing the 
succeeding one to pop up a fiy to Joe. 

It looked very much like a tie game when Ped- 
die had gone out, shortstop to first baseman, and 
Sam Craig had fanned in the first of the twelfth 
inning, for the visiting team would have to get 
the five-twelve train back to Amesville, and it was 
then well after four o’clock. But many a game 


FIRST BASE FAULKNER 229 

has been pulled out of the fire with two men down, 
and this was to prove one of them. Joe went to 
bat with his mind made up to hit somehow, some- 
where. This would, he was sure, he his last 
chance to do anything worth while against the 
crafty Mr. Corrigan, and he did want to have 
something more to show than two weak sacrifices. 
He had profited by experience and close study of 
Corrigan’s methods and was heartened by assur- 
ance when he gripped his bat and faced the shock- 
headed twirler. Corrigan seldom pitched the 
first ball over, and Joe knew it, and so, although 
he made a fine show of being anxious to swing at 
it, he let it go by and had his judgment sustained 
by the umpire’s decision. The next one was a 
fast ball that looked good until it broke in front 
of the plate and just escaped a corner. With two 
balls and no strikes, Corrigan became careful. 
Joe swung at the third offering and missed it. 
Corrigan smiled at him, and the catcher, who 
usually kept up a running fire of comment, told 
Joe that he was a fine, free swinger, “just like 
a gate, old man, just like a gate !” Corrigan con- 
cluded that the batter was ready to take a chance 
now and so he uncorked a fast and high one that 
had Joe feeling anxious until the umpire decided 
that it was a ball. After that, Corrigan had to 


230 


FIRST BASE FAULKNER 


make them good, but, with two down, he wasn’t 
troubled much. His next offering was one of his 
famous slow balls, and Joe, having one to spare, 
let it severely alone. It proved a strike. 

* 1 One more, now, just like the last ! ’ ’ called the 
catcher. “ Let’s have it, Jimmy!” 

But Joe knew very well that it wouldn’t be like 
the last at all, that Corrigan would change his 
pace, and, in all likelihood, put a fast one over 
in the groove. And that is what happened. And 
Joe, staking all on his “ hunch,” swung and 
caught it fairly and streaked down the base-path 
and was waved onward by Toby Williams, who 
was dancing about in the coacher’s box, and 
finally pulled up at second, standing, just as the 
ball came back from right field. Somehow, that 
unexpected hit changed the luck, it seemed. 
Cummings got his second hit of the game and 
sent Joe to third. Tom Pollock was again passed, 
filling the bases, and Jack Speyer went in to bat 
for Gordon Smith. Speyer wasn’t any phenom- 
enon with the stick, but he had been known to 
hit lustily. Perhaps in nine cases out of ten a 
pinch-hitter proves a broken reed, but this must 
have been the tenth time, for there was nothing 
broken about Speyer. Probably the fact that he 
had not been playing kept him from any awe of 


FIRST BASE FAULKNER 231 

Corrigan. At all events, he let the first ball go 
past unheeded, untroubledly heard it called la 
strike, and then swung hard on the next one. 
Second baseman made a heroic try for it, but it 
went a foot over his upthrust glove and Joe and 
Walter Cummings trotted over the home plate. 

That ended the scoring. Sidney Morris hit 
into third baseman’s hands and was an easy out. 
Then all that Amesville had to do was to retire 
Lynton in her half of the twelfth, a feat not at 
all difficult as it proved. Tom struck out the first 
man, the second laid down a bunt and beat out 
the throw to first, and the third batsman hit into 
a double, Smith to Peddie to Joe, and the game 
was over, the score 3 to 1. Amesville, cheered 
and cheering, made a wild dash for the station 
and got the five-twelve train by a minute’s 
margin. 

On the way home Jack tried to sympathise 
with Frank Foley, but Frank was in a particu- 
larly disagreeable frame of mind, and Jack gave 
him up as a bad job. Instead, huddled in a seat 
with Joe, hugging his knees ecstatically, he spoke 
of that bat-case with the air of a proprietor. 

‘ ‘I’m two # games ahead of him, Joey,” he exulted. 
u He will have to play in two more than I do now 
to win, and he will never do it! Not this year! 


232 


FIRST BASE FAULKNER 


YouVe cabbaged that place for keeps, Joey. 
Why, even if you dropped half the throws you 
got, Bat couldn’t do without you! Not after the 
way you lambasted that old pill today, son! It’s 
a cinch!” 

“You can’t tell,” began Joe. 

But Jack would have nothing to do with 
doubts. “Piffle! It’s all over with Handsome 
Frank, I tell you. You win!” Jack was silent a 
moment. Then he laughed rather queerly, and, 
in answer to Joe’s questioning look, said: “It’s 
funny, but, do you know, I’m sort of sorry for 
Frank! Isn’t that silly?” 

“So am I,” replied Joe truthfully. 

“Well!” Jack took a deep breath and aban- 
doned regrets. “To the victor belong the spoils, 
as the poet so beautifully puts it! And it’s been 
a pretty little fight!” 

However, had Jack but known it, his sympathy 
for Frank Foley was, in a measure, at least, some- 
what premature ! 


CHAPTER XVHI 


EMPTY BOXES 

June had come and the end of school loomed 
close at hand. So, too, loomed the final baseball 
game with Petersburg. It is an unfortunate thing 
for ardent athletes that the crowning contests of 
the year arrive simultaneously with final exami- 
nations ! There is no doubt in the world but that 
examinations seriously interfere with a whole- 
hearted application to sports. Most of the mem- 
bers of the Amesville team were agreed that 
something ought to be done about it; such, for 
instance, as abolishing the examinations! How- 
ever, Petersburg was in no better case, and that 
evened matters up. 

Amesville dropped a couple of games the sec- 
ond week in June, just to vary the monotony, 
perhaps, and then came back and overwhelmed 
Crowell Academy with a score of 10 to 1. 
Crowell was a much-heralded team from a down- 
State preparatory school, and Amesville did well 
to pile up the score she did, especially as, at the 

233 


234 


FIRST BASE FAULKNER 


last moment, Tom Pollock found that he couldn’t 
pitch and Jack Strobe sent word that someone 
would have to take his place in left field! Jack, 
who had been complaining for a day or two of a 
sore throat, was, it seemed, prohibited from play- 
ing by an unfeeling doctor. Loomis went into 
left field and Toby Williams took the mound, and 
both performed creditably. In fact, Toby rather 
covered himself with glory that day, having eight 
strike-outs to his credit when the fray was over. 
Joe played all through at first, as he had been 
doing since the second Lynton engagement, and 
put up a rattling good game. Even Frank Foley’s 
adherents had to acknowledge that the new first 
baseman had everything the deposed one had, 
and, when it came to batting, a good deal more. 
Joe didn’t particularly distinguish himself at the 
bat this day, but he got a clean single and a base 
on balls in four times up. Foley had been used 
in the last two contests for an inning or two at 
second base, but it was generally conceded that 
he was now only a substitute, with small likeli- 
hood of getting into eithei of the two remaining 
contests. 

After the game that Wednesday afternoon Joe 
hurried to Jack’s house and demanded audience 
of that afflicted person. But, to his surprise and 


FIRST BASE FAULKNER 235 
dismay, Mrs. Strobe met him with the informa- 
tion that J ack was suffering from a severe attack 
of quinsy and that the doctor had prohibited 
visitors, since the disease was more or less con- 
tagious. Joe had to be satisfied with sending a 
message to his chum. That evening, however, 
J ack called him up on the telephone and bewailed 
his luck. The only comfort Jack appeared able 
to derive from the situation lay in the fact that 
Frank Foley had not stolen a march on him by 
playing that afternoon. 

“The doc says I’ll have to stay at home until 
Monday, at least,” he said. “I’ll lose Saturday’s 
game. If Frank manages to get into that and 
then should play for an inning against Peters- 
burg, as he’s likely to, it’s all off! Isn’t that the 
dickens? Just when I thought I had that wager 
cinched, too!” 

Joe was properly sympathetic and Jack finally 
rang off, exacting a promise from Joe to call up 
the next day. Aunt Sarah insisted that Joe 
should spray his throat after the interview. 
It didn’t do, she said, to take risks, and for her 
part she was far from convinced that folks 
couldn’t catch things over the telephone! 

When, the next afternoon, on the way to the 
field, Joe stopped in at a drug store and called 


236 


FIRST BASE FAULKNER 


up Jack it was Mrs. Strobe who answered. Jack, 
she said, was not so well today and she thought 
it best for him not to try to talk. Joe went on 
to practice feeling rather worried about his chum, 
and wasn’t comforted until Mr. Talbot had as- 
sured him that quinsy seldom, if ever, resulted 
fatally. On Friday there was no practice for the 
players, and Joe, rather at a loose-end, accepted 
Sidney Morris’s invitation to go to the “movies.” 
It was well after five when he reached the Adams 
Building. Mr. Chester Young was talking in a 
low voice with a man who looked to Joe very 
much like a bill-collector. Whoever he was, he 
presently departed with no great show of satis- 
faction. The day’s business had been, Joe dis- 
covered, surprisingly poor, the register showing 
less than nine dollars. And when Young re- 
minded Joe that it was pay-day, Joe had to dig 
into his pocket for enough to make up the differ- 
ence between the cash on hand and the amount 
of the clerk’s wages. 

He called up the Strobes on the telephone after 
supper and talked for a few minutes with Mr. 
Strobe. That gentleman announced that Jack 
was feeling pretty mean, but that the doctor 
thought he was doing as well as could be expected 
and that he would probably be out and about by 


FIRST BASE FAULKNER 237 

the first of the week. After that Joe settled down 
to two hours of hard study in preparation for 
next week’s examinations, wrote a long letter to 
his mother and finally went to bed just as mid- 
night sounded. 

In the morning he went hack to the news-stand 
and remained there until noon. Saturday was 
usually the best day of the week for business, 
possibly because many of the offices paid off their 
employees then, and today both Joe and Young 
were kept busy attending to the wants of custom- 
ers. When Joe went home for dinner the sales 
had already mounted to over fifteen dollars and 
gave promise of atoning for the poor business of 
the day previous. 

The game that afternoon was with Chelmsford 
High School and was looked on as more of a 
practice contest than a real game. It was the last 
contest before the Petersburg battle on the fol- 
lowing Wednesday, and Amesville had purposely 
chosen an easy victim for the occasion. But at 
that the home team had to work fairly hard for 
half a dozen innings before the game was safely 
laid away, and, as it happened, it was Joe who 
was chiefly instrumental in that ceremony. 

Chelmsford had two runs and Amesville three 
when the last of the sixth started. Amesville had 


238 


FIRST BASE FAULKNER 


been playing raggedly and batting weakly against 
an easy pitcher, and only the fact that her op- 
ponent had been unable to do much with Tom 
Pollock’s delivery had kept her ahead. Tom 
gave place to Carl Moran in the fifth and, ulti- 
mately, Carl retired in favour of Toby Williams. 
In that last of the sixth Sam Craig, who was bat- 
ting in third place owing to Jack’s absence, got 
to first on a scratch hit. Hale was an easy out, 
third to first, and Peddie was passed. The watch- 
ers were eager for runs and when Joe went to 
the plate, swinging his bat, there came cries of 
‘ 4 All right, Lucky ! Smash it out!” ‘ ‘ Bring ’em 
in, Lucky! Make it a homer!” Joe had never 
made a home-run in his life and didn’t expect to 
now, but when, after the runners had attempted 
a double steal and got away with it, he found a 
nice, straight ball coming right for the middle of 
the plate, Joe took a little longer swing, put a 
little more strength into it, and the deed was 
done ! It was a long way around those bases, he 
thought, but he didn’t have to hurry after he got 
to third, for the ball had gone into the left corner 
of the field and rolled up against the fence! He 
jogged across the plate finally to the laughing 
applause of the stands and was thumped on the 
back by hilarious team-mates. 


FIRST BASE FAULKNER 


239 


Perhaps Coach Talbot thought Joe had done 
enough for one afternoon, for, when the seventh 
inning began, Joe found, to his surprise, that he 
was superseded at first base by Frank Foley! 

“I’m glad,” he said to himself, “that Jack 
can’t hear of it. He’d probably have a relapse 
and die!” 

Joe watched the rest of the game from the bench 
and tried not to be a little bit glad when Foley 
failed to capture an easy infield fly. The game 
finally ended with the score 7 to 3, and he walked 
back to town with the rest and reached the Adams 
Building at a little after five to find, to his sur- 
prise, that the stand was deserted. Supposing that 
Young would be back in a moment, Joe went be- 
hind the counter and waited on a customer. But 
no Mr. Chester Young appeared, and when Joe 
rang up the sale and so viewed the drawer of the 
cash register he thought he knew why! There 
was not a cent in it except the dime he had just 
dropped there! 

His first sensation was, oddly enough, one of 
satisfaction over the fact that his original impres- 
sion of the shifty-eyed young man had been, after 
all, correct ! But that satisfaction didn ’t last long. 
The realization that he and Jack had been bare- 
facedly robbed of at least twenty-five dollars took 


240 


FIRST BASE FAULKNER 


its place and Joe’s countenance became grim. To 
add insult to injury, be reflected, Young had had 
the cheek to demand his wages on the eve of his 
flight — and get them! Inquiry of Walter, the 
elevator boy, elicited the information that Mr. 
Chester Young had complained of feeling unwell 
and had announced that he was going over to the 
drug store for some medicine. That had been, as 
near as Walter could recall, about a quarter to 
five. It might have been a little before that. 
Walter evidently had no suspicions and Joe didn’t 
enlighten him. 

The exodus from the building was under way 
now and for a good half-hour Joe was busy sell- 
ing papers and cigars and cigarettes, together 
with an occasional box of candy. But he had 
plenty of time for thinking, and long before the 
elevators had brought down their last loads he 
had determined his course. A hasty survey of the 
stock in sight showed conclusively that the stand 
had done a phenomenal business since morning, 
but it was not until he thought to look under the 
counter that the real extent of Mr. Young’s dep- 
redations came to light. 

On the shelves they kept anywhere from thirty 
to sixty dollars’ worth of cigars, cigarettes and 
other goods for which there was not room above. 


FIRST BASE FAULKNER 


241 


At first glance everything seemed all right, but 
when Joe picked up a box of “Adams Building’ ’ 
conchas and, bringing it to light, discovered it 
to be quite empty, he knew what to expect of the 
rest of the stock. When he had pulled all the 
boxes and packages out their contents would not 
have fetched two dollars! Only one cigar box 
held cigars, and then only a handful. Evidently 
Mr. Young had craftily replaced the full boxes 
with empty ones and, not having enough of the 
latter, had been forced to put in one from the case 
that still held a few cigars. It was the same with 
the cigarette cartons. Only one was not abso- 
lutely empty. 

Joe surveyed the litter behind the counter and 
tried to think it out. At first he couldn’t under- 
stand what use the cigars could be to Young. 
Of course, he might take them away to another 
town and sell them, but eight boxes of them, as 
well as several packages of cigarettes and smok- 
ing tobacco, would make rather a conspicuous 
bundle to carry. Then a light broke on him and 
he quickly lifted the receiver from the telephone 
instrument on the counter and called up Meyers 
and Fink. Fortunately, they were still open, and 
after a moment Joe got the information he 
expected. 


242 


FIRST BASE FAULKNER 


“Yes, that clerk of yours came in here about 
three o’clock today with seven boxes of cigars 
and some cigarettes and smoking tobacco. Said 
you were overstocked and wanted to return them. 
We paid him cash for them. We were going to 
credit them, but he said you wanted the money. 
Anything wrong?” 

“How much did you pay him?” asked Joe. 

“Forty-six dollars and something; I’ll give 
you the exact amount if you’ll wait a minute.” 

“Thanks, that’s near enough,” replied Joe. 
“ I ’ll be around to see you Monday. Good-night. ’ ’ 

“Forty-six from them,” reckoned Joe, “about 
twenty-five from today’s sales and, unless I’m 
mistaken, a knock-down yesterday of perhaps 
five more. About seventy-five dollars altogether. 
That’s going to maker an awful dent in this 
month’s profits if we don’t get it back! But,” 
he added grimly to himself as he locked up for 
the night and turned the light out, “I think we 
will!” 


CHAPTER XIX 


JOE ACCEPTS A LOAN 

The notion of calling np Jack and acquainting 
him with what had happened came to him, but 
was dismissed after a moment’s reflection. Jack 
was ill and the news would only worry and excite 
him. Instead, as he hurried up Main Street, Joe 
decided to call up Aunt Sarah and excuse himself 
from supper on a plea of business. Aunt Sarah 
wouldn’t like it, for she still viewed the news- 
stand with suspicion. But perhaps Aunt Sarah 
detected the anxiety in Joe’s voice when he tele- 
phoned, for she asked no questions and was really 
quite pleasant, only informing him a trifle wist- 
fully that there was beefstew this evening and 
that Amanda was making some of her delectable 
dumplings ! 

After that hurried talk over the wire Joe 
turned into Aspen Street, walked three blocks 
west and finally rang the bell at the door of a 
rather down-at-heels brick house that stood by 
itself almost in the shadow of the frowning car- 
243 


244 FIRST BASE FAULKNER 

pet mills. When a dejected and at the same 
time suspicious-looking middle-aged woman 
answered the bell Joe inquired if she were Mrs. 
Young. 

“ There’s no Mrs. Young lives around here,” 
was the reply. “My name’s Bennett.” 

“Does Chester Young live here, ma’am?” 

“Are you a friend of bis?” was the quick 
demand. 

“My name is Faulkner, Mrs. Bennett. He 
worked for me in the Adams Building.” 

“He did, eh? Then maybe you’ll be payin’ me 
two weeks’ board he’s owin’. Did he send you 
with the money?” 

“No, I haven’t seen him since noon. That’s 
why I came over here. I thought perhaps I’d 
find him.” 

“Well, you won’t, then. He’s skipped!” 

“Skipped?” exclaimed Joe. “Gone for good, 
you mean?” 

“He’s gone owin’ me two weeks’ board, which 
is nine dollars, and fifty cents he borrowed off 
me the day he came here. He was always prom- 
isin’ to pay it, but he never done it, and him bein’ 
out of work I didn’t press him at first and then 
afterwards he kept sayin’ he’d pay me every day. 
I’m a poor, hard-workin’ woman, and I need the 


FIRST BASE FAULKNER 245 

money. Maybe you’re after owin’ him wages, 
now?” 

“I’m not. I wish I were, Mrs. Bennett. I’m 
sorry he left without settling with you, ma’am. 
Could you tell me where he ’s gone ? ’ ’ 

“I can not. If I knew I’d be settin’ the police 
on him, never fear ! From the first I suspicioned 
him, the dirty rascal, but he had a smooth tongue 
on him and was always promisin’ he’d pay to- 
morrow. If I knew where he’d gone to I’d not 
be gabbin’ here in the doorway! ’Twas while I 
was out to the store after dinner he sneaked in 
and packed his bag and took it away with him, 
knowin’ I’d not stand for it if I was by. Two 
weeks’ money and the half-dollar ” 

“And you can’t tell me whether he’s left town 
or just changed his lodgings, Mrs. Bennett?” 

“All I know is he’s gone, bad luck to him! Is 
he maybe owin’ you money, too, sir?” 

“A little, yes. I’m much obliged, ma’am. 
Good-night. ’ ’ 

“If you find him now, let me know, sir. That’s 
all I’m askin’ you. Just you let me know, sir! 
The dirty scallawag! Cheatin’ a poor, hard- 
workin’ woman out of her money!” 

The door slammed and Joe stumbled back to 
the uncertain sidewalk and retraced his steps 


246 FIRST BASE FAULKNER 

along the ill-lighted street. When he reached 
Indiana Street he unhesitatingly turned south- 
ward and five minutes later saw the lights of the 
railroad ahead. His course had already been de- 
termined and the visit to Mr. Chester Young’s 
lodgings had been made with little hope of either 
finding the defaulting clerk or gaining useful in- 
formation. Chester had given Joe the impression 
that he lived with his mother, which accounted 
for the latter mistaking the identity of the woman 
at the door. Chester, it seemed, was a very tricky 
young man. 

At the station Joe examined the time-table in 
the waiting-room. Chester had left the building 
somewhere about a quarter to five. At five-two 
a train had left for Fostoria, Fremont and San- 
dusky, connecting at Fremont for Toledo. There 
was no train between that and a quarter to five 
and none afterwards until twenty minutes to six, 
when the south-bound express had left for Co- 
lumbus. Everything indicated the five-two as 
the train Chester had taken if, as Joe suspected, 
he had really left Amesville. The ticket window 
was closed, but a rap on the door gained him ad- 
mittance to the little room wherein the agent was 
seated at the telegraph instrument. He looked 
up inquiringly, nodded, worked the key a moment, 


FIRST BASE FAULKNER 247 

listened to tlie reply, and then swung around in 
his swivel chair. 

“Well, sir, what’s troubling your’ he asked 
gaily. 

“I wanted to ask if you remembered selling a 
ticket to a fellow for the five-two train,” stated 
Joe. 

“Maybe. What sort of a fellow? There were 
only nine passengers from here on Number 14, 
so far as I know. What did he look like?” 

Joe’s description was clear and concise and the 
agent nodded again. “I remember the chap,” 
he said. “He bought to — Hold on, now. What 
business is it of yours, my boy? Is he a friend 
of yours, or what’s the game?” 

“He worked for me at the news-stand in the 
Adams Building and left suddenly about a quar- 
ter to five. I went to his house and the landlady 
said he ’d taken his baggage and gone. I — I want 
to see him and ask him something.” 

“Do, eh?” The agent grinned. “How much 
did he touch you for?” 

Joe smiled non-committingly. 

“Well, that’s not my business, eh?” laughed 
the agent. “All right, son, I’ll tell you what I 
know about the lad. He bought a ticket to Upper 
Newton. I remember it distinctly because he 


248 


FIRST BASE FAULKNER 


called for a Fostoria ticket first and changed his 
mind just as I stamped it. I asked him if he was 
quite sure this time and he said he guessed he 
was. Yep, Upper Newton, that was it. He car- 
ried a yellow suit-case. I noticed that as he went 
out to the platform just before I closed the 
window. ’ ’ 

“And where’s Upper Newton?” asked Joe. 
“Is it very far?” 

“About twenty-four or -five miles.” 

“When does the next train go there?” 

“Seven-thirty-six. But, say, if you’re think- 
ing of going after him I wouldn’t count a whole 
lot on finding him at Upper Newton. That’s not 
much more than a flag station. T wouldn’t won- 
der if he bought for there just to throw folks 
off the track. Dare say he’ll pay his way on to 
Fostoria or, maybe, Fremont. At Fremont he 
could get east or west as he liked. There’s a 
through train connects there for Toledo and be- 
yond and one going east about eleven tonight. 
Take my advice and stay where you are, son. 
You’ll never catch him unless you want to put 
the police after him. If you care for that I’d 
advise you to go back up-town and tell your 
story to the chief. How much did he pinch from 
you?” 


FIRST BASE FAULKNER 


249 


“I didn’t say he’d stolen anything,” said Joe. 

“I know you didn’t. But, if he had, how much 
would it have been?” 

Joe hesitated. Then, smiling: 1 1 About sev- 
enty-five dollars,” he said. “But I’d rather you 
didn’t say anything.” 

“I’m dumb. Say, where does he live when he’s 
at home?” 

“I don’t know. He worked in Columbus be- 
fore he came here.” 

“Well, he’s headed straight away from Colum- 
bus, hasn’t he? I guess he’s maybe going to 
Sandusky and take a boat. Still, seventy dollars 
won’t take him far.” The agent was silent a mo- 
ment, rapping a pencil thoughtfully on the desk 
in front of him. Then: “Tell you what I’ll do,” 
he exclaimed, sitting up with a thump of his 
chair. “I’ll wire Harris on Fourteen and ask 
him if the fellow got off at Upper Newton or 
paid his fare on the train to Fostoria or beyond ! 
How’s that?” 

“I wish you would! It’s very kind of you. I 
suppose I couldn’t catch him if he’s gone on, 
though. ’ ’ 

“Well, we’ll find out, anyhow.” The agent 
flicked a time-table to him, ran a finger down a 
column, glanced at the clock and then began jab- 


250 


FIRST BASE FAULKNER 


bing the telegraph key. ‘ ‘ I ’ll get Tiverton to give 
him the message,” he explained as he waited a 
reply. “Fourteen gets there in seven minutes 
if she's on time. Here we are!” The sounder in 
its little box ticked rapidly and stopped and the 
agent busied himself again with the key. Joe, 
who had seated himself in a chair, watched and 
waited. Presently the agent's hand left the key 
and he faced around again. 

“Twelve minutes late, he says. I've asked 
Harris to answer from Mittenton. We ought to 
get a reply in about twenty-five minutes.” 

“Is Tiverton beyond Upper Newton!” inquired 
Joe. 

“Yes, about six miles. Harris will know if 
your man got off there, because there wouldn't 
be more than two or three for a small station like 
that. If he didn't he'd have to buy to some place 
further along and Harris would remember mak- 
ing out his check.” 

“I see. What did you say to that agent!” 

“I said, ‘Harris, Conductor Number 14. Did 
slick guy about twenty-two old leave train at 
Upper Newton! If not, what's his destination! 
Important. Reply from Mittenton. Chase, 
Agent, Amesville.' ” 

“Thanks,” said Joe. “Then we’d ought to get 


FIRST BASE FAULKNER 251 

an answer about twenty minutes past seven. 
What time does that train go? Seven-thirty ?” 

“Thirty-six. Mittenton will shoot that right 
back. So you’ll have plenty of time to get Num- 
ber 49 if you want it.” 

“Fostoria is the first big town, isn’t it?” 

“Yep. He might be stopping off there. Any- 
way, he asked for Fostoria first. That might be 
his home. I guess, though, he wouldn’t be fool 
enough to go home. He’d know folks would look 
for him there right away.” 

“How much is the fare to Fostoria, please?” 

‘ ‘ One-twenty-four. ’ ’ 

“And how much is it to that other place where 
you said he might change?” 

“Fremont? Fremont’s a dollar and forty- 
five. ’ ’ 

Joe looked thoughtful. He had, as he knew, 
only something like a dollar and eighty cents in 
his pocket, which would come very far from be- 
ing sufficient. If he went back to the house he 
might borrow enough from Aunt Sarah and he 
might not. Aunt Sarah seldom kept more than 
a dollar or two on hand, and it would be folly to 
start out for Fremont or Sandusky with less than 
six or seven dollars in his pocket. He tried to 
think of some other place to get the money. 


252 


FIRST BASE FAULKNER 


There was Mr. Strobe, but Joe had a dim idea 
that Jack had said something about his father 
going to Chicago the day before. Perhaps the 
agent would know whether Mr. Strobe was out 
of town. He looked across to find that person 
viewing him smilingly. 

“Not enough, eh?” he asked. 

Joe grinned and shook his head. “Not nearly 
enough. I guess I ought to have six or seven 
dollars. Do you know whether Mr. Strobe’s in 
town?” 

“I know he left for the West yesterday morn- 
ing. Whether he’s back or not I can’t say. He 
carries mileage, so I don’t know where he started 
for. Is he a friend of yours?” 

“Yes. His son, Jack, and I run that news- 
stand together. I thought if he was at home I’d 
run up there while we’re waiting and ask him to 
lend me about five dollars.” 

“I guess you wouldn’t find him. Where’s the 
son?” 

“He’s at home, but he’s ill with quinsy. I 
wouldn’t want to trouble Jack with the business 
right now.” 

“What’s your name?” 

“Joseph Faulkner.” 

“All right, son, I’ll be your banker.” The 


FIRST BASE FAULKNER 


253 


agent thrust a hand in his pocket and brought 
out some crumpled bills and a lot of silver. 
“Five enough? You’d better have more, hadn’t 
you?” 

“Oh, no, thanks; five is quite enough. It’s 
mighty good of you, Mister — Mister ” 

“Chase. Don’t mention it. Pay it back some 
time in a week and I shan’t miss it. Here you 
are.” 

Joe accepted the crumpled bills and repeated 
his thanks. At that moment the assistant came 
in and the agent, greeting him, introduced Joe. 
‘ ‘ Faulkner, ’ ’ he explained, ‘ ‘ is waiting for a mes- 
sage from Harris on Fourteen. It’ll probably 
come in from Mittenton before I get back, Jim. 
Get it straight, will you, and give to him?” He 
turned to Joe as he reached for his coat and hat 
behind the door. “Had your supper yet?” he 
asked. “No? Well, you don’t want to start otf 
without something inside you. Come on over to 
the Palace and coal-up.” 

The Palace proved to be the identical small 
restaurant which had exhaled that enticing fra- 
grance of coffee the morning of Joe’s arrival in 
Amesville. The repast, though simple, was well 
cooked, and Joe, who had forgotten all about 
supper, now discovered himself to be extremely 


254 FIRST BASE FAULKNER 

hungry. Under the benign influence of a cup of 
steaming-hot coffee he confided the whole story 
to Mr. Chase and the latter gave flattering atten- 
tion. 

“I remember reading in the paper about that 
cigar-stand of yours,” he said. “You had a box 
and let folks put their money in it, didn’t you? 
Did it work?” 

“Yes, but sometimes folks didn’t have the right 
change and then we lost a sale. So Jack and I 
decided we’d better hire someone to be there 
when we couldn’t. We neither of us liked the 
looks of Young very much, but we put in a cash 
register and thought it would be all right.” 

“What you needed, I guess, was a safe,” re- 
plied the agent drily. “Well, I hope you catch 
him, but, to be honest about it, Faulkner, I don’t 
believe you will. If he gets off at Upper Newton 
you’ll be able to trace him, I dare say, and you 
may if he goes on to Fostoria or Fremont ; they’re 
smallish towns; but if he reaches Sandusky or 
Toledo it’ll be like looking for a needle in a hay- 
stack! What I’d do if I were you is go right to 
the police and put it up to them.” 

“Maybe that would be the best way,” agreed 
Joe doubtfully. “But, somehow, I don’t like to. 
Everyone would know about it, you see, and if — 


FIRST BASE FAULKNER 255 

if Young didn’t exactly mean to pinch the 
money ” 

“Didn’t mean to! You don’t suppose, do you, 
that it got stuck to his fingers and he couldn’t 
get it oft?” asked the agent ironically. 

“No.” Joe flushed faintly. “What I mean 
is that it would be too bad to have him arrested, 
because he might never do a thing like that 
again. ’ ’ 

“Well, please yourself. I don’t think he de- 
serves much consideration, though.” He 
chuckled. “It would be a good plan to get him 
back here and let that landlady you told about 
get at him! I’ll bet that would be worse than a 
year in jail! If you’re through we’ll hike across 
and see if that answer has come.” 

There was some discussion as to who was to 
pay for Joe’s repast, but the agent finally silenced 
protest by agreeing to accept a handful of cigars 
if Joe’s mission succeeded. It was twenty min- 
utes past seven by the waiting-room clock when 
they got back to the station and the message was 
awaiting them. 

“Passenger held ticket to Upper Newton, but 
stayed on and bought to Fremont. Made inquiry 
about east-bound trains tonight. If you want 
him pinched say the word. Harris.” 


256 


FIRST BASE FAULKNER 


“Fremont, eh?” Mr. Chase seized the time- 
table and studied it a moment. “He can’t get 
an east-bound until ten-fifty-five. There ’s a 
local to Norwalk, though, at nine-forty-seven. 
He might take that. Or he may have asked about 
the east-bound trains just to throw us off the 
track!” He looked thoughtfully at Joe a mo- 
ment. Then, decisively: “That’s his game all 
right! He means to take the eight o’clock ex- 
press to Toledo! If he does — Hold on, though! 
Jim, ask how late Fourteen was at Fostoria. 
That express doesn’t wait but five minutes for 
connections and Fourteen was twelve minutes 
late at Mittenton. She might make that up, but 
she makes all stops and I don’t believe she will. 
If he misses the eight o’clock he can’t get west 
until ten-four.” 

“Fourteen was nineteen minutes late at Fos- 
toria,” announced the assistant. “Left there at 
twenty-two. ’ ’ 

1 1 Good ! ’ ’ exclaimed Mr. Chase. ‘ 4 That ’ll bring 
her to Fremont about eight-seventeen if she 
doesn’t lose any more time, and she’s likely to 
keep on losing now. If you take the thirty-six ’ ’ — 
he glanced swiftly at the clock — “you’re due in 
Fremont at nine-forty-eight. That’ll give you 
sixteen minutes there before the west-bound pulls 


FIRST BASE FAULKNER 


257 


out. If he means to take that he will be waiting 
around the station and you’ll catch him.” He 
swung around toward the assistant. 44 Jim, send 
this to Harris at Fremont : 4 Did passenger get off 
at Fremont? If so, do you know his destination? 
Chase. ’ If Harris wires back that he got off this 
side or has gone on to Sandusky I’ll telegraph 
you at Fostoria. If you don’t get any message 
it’ll mean that your party got off at Fremont 
and Harris doesn’t know where he’s headed for. 
You’d better loosen up now and get your ticket. 
Your train will be here in four minutes. Forty- 
nine’s on time, isn’t she, Jim?” 

“0. T. at Fountain,” was the reply. 4 4 There 
she whistles now.” 

Five minutes later, having set Aunt Sarah’s 
mind at rest by telephone, Joe was seated in a 
day-coach and Number 49 was leaving the 
Amesville lights behind her on her northward 
journey. 


CHAPTER XX 


PURSUIT 

Forty-nine was a faster train than the one on 
which Mr. Chester Young had embarked and 
made but five stops between Amesville and Fre- 
mont, but to Joe it seemed that she took things 
in an irritatingly leisurely manner. With but 
sixteen minutes’ leeway at the end of his journey, 
he was momentarily in fear that something w r ould 
happen to detain them, and he viewed his watch 
anxiously as, having made a perfectly ridiculous 
stop of four minutes at Folkstone, Forty-nine 
rolled off again into the night. However, a com- 
parison of his time and that indicated on the 
time-table with which he had armed himself 
showed no discrepancy, and he settled back in 
his seat with a sigh of relief. Fostoria was the 
next stop and he anxiously awaited it, wondering 
whether he would find a message from the agent. 

Now that he was absolutely embarked on his 
mission he began to wonder if he was not under- 
taking a foolish and hopeless quest. It had 
258 


FIRST BASE FAULKNER 


259 


looked quite simple and easy back there at Ames- 
ville, but doubts assailed him now. There were 
so many chances against success. Young might 
go on to Sandusky or he might lose himself in 
Fremont, deciding to remain the night there, or 
he might take that local to Norwalk. Even if Joe 
found him he might be no better off ! How was 
he to persuade Young to give up the money? If 
he called on the police for help there might be 
all sorts of complications. Joe wasn’t certain 
that it would not be necessary for him to swear 
out a warrant first, by which time Young would 
be on his way to Toledo or elsewhere. He took 
out his money and counted it over. He had ex- 
actly five dollars and thirty-seven cents left after 
purchasing his ticket to Fremont. Of that 
amount a dollar and forty-five cents would be 
needed for his journey back to Amesville. A 
dollar-forty-five from five-thirty-seven left three 
dollars and ninety- two cents. On that he could 
travel something like a hundred and thirty miles, 
he reflected. Very well, then. He would go along 
with Young until that youth made restitution or 
until he had exhausted what money he had. 
After that he would telegraph to 'Aunt Sarah for 
money to get home with. In any case, the police 
were to have no part in the affair! 


260 FIRST BASE FAULKNEB 

The train slowed down while he was reaching 
this decision and the trainman, opening the door 
ahead, let in a gust of cold air and announced 
Fostoria. Another seemingly interminable wait, 
and then the train went on again, and just as J oe 
had given up hope of that message it came. 

“ Telegram for Joseph Faulkner,” said the 
conductor questioningly as he came through the 
car. 

“ That’s me, please,” said Joe. 

“Here you are, then, my boy.” Joe took the 
sheet of buff paper and read: “Amesville. Jos. 
Faulkner, on No. 49, Fostoria. Harris wires 
party got off Fremont and said he was going to 
Cleveland. Think that’s a stall. Toledo the best 
guess. Good luck. Chase.” 

Joe folded the message and put it in his pocket. 
Undoubtedly Mr. Chase was right about it. 
Young would not announce his real destination 
and if he had said Cleveland it was safe to say 
that he meant to journey in another direction. 
Joe settled back again, tipped his cap over his 
eyes to keep the light out and tried to plan what 
he should do and say if he was lucky enough to 
discover Young at Fremont. In the end, though, 
he reached no very clear conclusion, and while he 
was still trying to formulate a speech with which 


FIRST BASE FAULKNER 


261 


to greet the absconding clerk the train rattled 
over the switches, green and purple and red and 
white lights flashed past the window and the 
trainman was bawling: 

“Fremont! Fremont! Change for Norwalk, 
Elyria, Cleveland, Toledo, and points east and 
west! This train for Sandusky and Port Clin- 
ton !” 

J oe followed a dozen other passengers through 
the car door and down to the platform. A glance 
at his watch had shown him that Forty-nine, in 
spite of her unhurried progress, had arrived ex- 
actly on time. Consequently he had sixteen min- 
utes in which to search the station and platform 
before the west-bound express drew out. He still 
kept his cap pulled down in front, trusting that 
if Mr. Chester Young saw him he would not recog- 
nise him. The platform was fairly crowded and 
Joe made his way along to the door of the wait- 
ing-room, keeping as much as possible out of 
sight. It took but a moment to satisfy himself 
that his quarry was not inside. Then he went 
on to the end of the platform without result, re- 
traced his steps, reached the other end and paused 
there in the shadow of a piled-up truck. Mr. 
Chester Young was not to be seen. Five minutes 
had already gone by. Joe’s hope began to dwin- 


262 


FIRST BASE FAULKNER 


die. After all, lie reflected, it had been too much 
to expect; given a start of two hours and a half, 
Young would have been an idot if he had not 
eluded pursuit. And yet, on the other hand, what 
reason had Young to suppose that either of the 
boys whose money he had taken would go to the 
length of chasing him down? Joe didn’t believe 
that Young would give either him or Jack credit 
for having enough enterprise to do that. And if 
he didn’t really expect pursuit he wouldn’t try 
very hard to elude it. 

Joe gathered courage again and sought the 
ticket- window in the waiting-room. By this time 
the platform had almost emptied, but at the 
ticket-window several persons were in line and 
now and then the door opened to admit other 
passengers for the west-bound train. Joe gave 
up the idea of inquiring of the ticket-seller and 
inspected a time-table instead. The west-bound 
arrived in Fremont at nine-fifty-nine and re- 
mained there five minutes. It would come in, 
then, in just five minutes if it was on time. That 
put another idea in his head and he went back to 
the platform, keeping his eyes peeled, and sought 
the bulletin board there. i 1 No. 16, ” he read, ‘ ‘ due 
9:59, 15 mins, late.” 

That, he told himself, would give him more 


FIRST BASE FAULKNER 


263 


time. He remained where he was and kept his 
gaze on the door of the waiting-room. The plat- 
form began to fill np again. A fonr-car local 
pulled in, emptied its contents and puffed out. 
The clock pointed to one minute of ten now. It 
was chilly out there on the platform, for a north 
wind was blowing down from Lake Erie, and 
Joe’s thoughts travelled toward the gleaming 
coffee-urn he had glimpsed a few minutes back. 
For a moment he debated whether he should seek 
it and spend a nickle of his small fund, but he 
decided not to. If Young did put in an appear- 
ance he wanted to know it as soon as possible. 
And at that moment his gaze, travelling over the 
platform, alighted on the form of a man carrying 
a suit-case and making his way along toward 
where Joe was standing with his back to the 
building. For an instant Joe thought that the 
other had seen him and was going to speak. But 
it was the bulletin board that was the attraction, 
and Joe, turning aside to escape detection in a 
sudden spasm of nervousness, smelt the odour of 
a cigarette that was very familiar, heard the 
other’s grunt of impatience as he read the in- 
scription on the board, and the tread of his feet 
as he strode away again. 

Then a mild panic seized Joe and he darted 


264 


FIRST BASE FAULKNER 


forward. Someone got in front of him. He 
dodged around and his heart sank, for his first 
anxious look failed to discover the form it sought. 
He was already regretting his timorousness 
when he spied his quarry entering the waiting- 
room. Joe sped after him. Mr. Chester Young 
was making his way to the ticket window. Joe 
made a detour and closed in behind him. At the 
window he stood at his elbow while he purchased 
a ticket for Toledo. Young had, it appeared, 
plenty of money, for he gave a twenty-dollar bill 
to the ticket-seller and caused that busy gentle- 
man to scowl as he made change. Then Young 
turned away, walked to the end of a bench, set 
his bag down, and proceeded to place the bills and 
silver in his purse. 

Joe, his heart thumping hard, walked across 
to him, a slight smile around his mouth. When 
he was a yard away Young glanced up and a look 
of surprise and consternation came into his face. 

“Hello, Young,” said Joe pleasantly. “I was 
afraid I’d missed you.” 


CHAPTER XXI 


ON THE WEST-BOUND 

Young’s first act was to slip the purse into a 
pocket of his overcoat, even as his gaze darted 
stealthily around the waiting-room, and he sum- 
moned a smile, not a particularly gladsome smile, 
to his face. Joe noticed the eternal cigarette 
tremble between his lips. Then: 

“Why, hello, Faulkner,” said Mr. Chester 
Young. “How are you?” 

“All right, thanks,” replied Joe, his eyes un- 
consciously dropping for an instant to that pocket 
into which the fat purse had disappeared. “Sit 
down a minute, will you ; I want to talk to you. ’ ’ 
“Can’t do it,” answered the other briskly, but- 
toning his coat with none too steady fingers. 
“Fact is, I’m running up to Detroit and my train 
is leaving in about half a minute. I suppose you 
were surprised to find me gone, eh? Well, you 
see, I got a telegram this afternoon telling me 
that my father was very ill and I had to beat it 
off on the five-two. I was going to write and ex- 
265 


266 


FIRST BASE FAULKNER 


plain to you. Ill do that, anyway. Glad to have 
seen you again. You keep that job open for me 
until Saturday and 111 be back for it. Good- 
night.’ J He held out his hand and Joe took it. 

‘ 4 Your train’s fifteen minutes late,” said Joe 
calmly. “So there’s no hurry. Sit down.” He 
still held Young’s hand and now pulled him gently 
toward the seat. Young resisted, but Joe’s clasp 
was a strong one, and unless he wanted to indulge 
in a scuffle there was nothing to do but give in. 
But it was a different Mr. Chester Young who 
faced Joe now. He tossed aside his cigarette and 
observed his captor defiantly. 

“Well, what you got to say, Faulkner?” he 
demanded. 

“I suppose you know why I’m here?” asked 
Joe. 

“Never mind what I know. Get down to busi- 
ness. What’s your game?” 

‘ ‘ My game ’s to collect seventy-five dollars from 
you, Young, I ought to charge the costs of col- 
lection, too, I guess, but we’ll let that go. If you 
want to send nine dollars back by me to Mrs. 
Bennett, though, I’ll be glad to take it.” 

Young laughed softly. “And why should I 
hand seventy-five dollars over to you, Faulkner? 
What do you think I am, a national bank?” 


FIRST BASE FAULKNER 


267 


“If you want an itemized account/’ responded 
Joe patiently, “I can oblige you. But your train 
will be leaving in about twelve minutes, you 
know. Roughly, the cigars and things you turned 
back to the dealers amounted to forty-seven 
dollars ” 

Young’s expression changed enough to show 
that he had not expected Joe to have knowledge 
of that transaction. 

“And you got about thirty out of the cash 
register yesterday and today. That foots up to 
seventy-seven, and ” 

“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” in- 
terrupted Young angrily, but without raising his 
voice. “Someone’s been stalling you. You’d 
better go back to Amesville and soak your head, 
sport. You’re too innocent to be so far from 
home.” 

“Ten minutes to train time now,” said Joe. 
“Come across, Young. You’re beaten, and you 
know it.” 

“Why, you silly chump, you can’t hold me up 
for money like this! I haven’t got that much, 
anyway, and if I had I wouldn’t be likely to pass 
it over to you. You must be crazy! You ought 
to get a job in a squirrel cage!” 

“If you haven’t seventy-five it’s going to be 


268 


FIRST BASE FAULKNER 


awkward,” said Joe reflectively. “I thought that 
probably you’d hand it over and there wouldn’t 
have to be any trouble about it. I hate to get 
my name in the papers, but if I have to all right.” 

“Quit your joking,” growled Young. “For 
two cents I’d knock your head oft. There’s my 
train and I can’t stop here chewing the rag any 
longer.” He got up, bag in hand and grinned 
mockingly down at the other. “Give my love to 
Strobe when you get back, sport. So long.” 

Joe sighed regretfully and stood up. “All 
right,” he murmured. “There’s no hurry. I 
don’t mind seeing a little of the world while I’m 
at it. I dare say Toledo or Detroit is quite worth 
visiting. ’ ’ 

Young, who had started toward the door, 
turned. “If you try to follow me,” he said men- 
acingly, “I’ll do for you, kid!” 

“You won’t get a chance,” replied Joe simply. 
“I’d rather go home from here, of course, but if 
you want to be silly I’ll give you as far as Toledo 
to think it over.” 

“What would you do in Toledo?” sneered the 
other. 

“Have you arrested, of course. That’s the 
only thing I can do if you don’t make good be- 
fore. I might have done it here, but I thought 


FIRST BASE FAULKNER 


269 


you’d prefer to keep out of trouble, and now’ 
he looked around the waiting-room — “ there isn’t 
a policeman in sight.” 

4 ‘Have me arrested!” jeered Young. “Try it, 
kid! Go ahead and try it! Why, I never saw 
you before in my life ! Tell that yarn to a cop 
and see what will happen.” 

“All right, let’s go out on the platform. 
There’s one there, I guess.” 

Young’s eyes dropped, but after an instant’s 
hesitation he turned toward the door again. 
‘ ‘ Sure ! Come on and find him ! ’ ’ 

Joe kept close at his elbow and they passed 
through the door and into the throng on the long 
platform. The west-bound train had pulled into 
the station a few minutes before and outside all 
was bustle and confusion. Young paused and 
looked up and down the platform. 

“There’s a cop down there,” he exclaimed. 
“Come on and we’ll finish this up right 
now. ’ ’ 

He pushed past Joe and made his way with 
difficulty in and out of the crowd. Joe followed 
close on his heels. Above the sound of escaping 
steam and the noise of the crowd he heard the 
cry of “All abo-o-oard!” He was quite certain 
that Young had not seen a policeman in the direc- 


270 


FIRST BASE FAULKNER 


tion he was taking and was wondering whether 
the former meant to make a sudden dash for lib- 
erty when he was once free of the throng or, at 
the lasf instant, leap aboard the train. There was 
a sound of releasing brakes, at the other end of 
the long train a bell clanged warningly, and, an 
instant later, the cars began to move slowly past. 
They were out of the crowd now and near the 
end of the train. Joe saw Young turn his head 
a little in the direction of the moving train and 
something warned him to be on his guard. Young 
swung around and faced him. 

“I was sure I saw a cop down here,” he said 
puzzledly. “ Where do you suppose he got to? 
See him anywhere?” 

Perhaps Young expected Joe to look away for 
a moment, for he suddenly shot out his right fist 
straight at the younger boy’s face. But Joe had 
not moved his gaze a fraction from Young’s coun- 
tenance and he read what was coming before the 
arm was drawn back for the blow. Instinctively 
he dodged to the right and Young’s fist went 
harmlessly past his head. Then something took 
him in the knees — he surmised afterwards that 
it was Young’s suit-case — and he went stagger- 
ing back against the station wall. 

When he recovered himself Young was darting 


FIRST BASE FAULKNER 271 
across the platform, bag swinging wildly, and 
even as he started in pursuit his quarry tossed 
the suit-case onto the forward platform of the 
last car, trotted alongside and, aided by the por- 
ter, who had been in the act of closing the vesti- 
bule door, sprang aboard! 

A dozen strides told Joe that he could never 
reach that platform. The train, gaining speed 
every instant, was now moving rapidly out of the 
station and beside him the lighted windows of the 
last car slipped past. There was but one thing 
to do and he determined to do it, or, at least, 
make a try. Slackening his pace a little, he let 
the length of the car go past him and then, spurt- 
ing desperately, heedless of the warning shouts 
of lookers-on, he managed to grasp the forward 
rail of the last steps! 

The speed of the train lifted him from his feet 
and hurled him against the rear railing. He made 
a clutch for this, but failed, and swung outward 
again, dangling, his feet trailing along the planks 
of the station platform. Cries of alarm arose 
from the watchers behind. But Joe held on, 
searched with his left hand for a hold, knocked 
his knees bruisingly against the car steps, got 
one on the lower ledge, and, somehow, dragged 
himself to his feet, clinging at last to the brass 


272 FIRST BASE FAULKNER 

gate that closed the platform off and fighting for 
breath ! 

For a full minute he clung there, dizzy, con- 
scious of smarting contusions about his knees 
and of a dull ache in one hip where he had collided 
with the railing. Finally he climbed over the 
gate, tried the door and found it unlocked and 
stepped inside a handsome library-compartment 
in which a half-dozen men were seated about in 
the cane easy-chairs reading. His appearance 
elicited no surprise. Perhaps they thought he had 
been on the platform while the train was in the 
station. At all events, although the occupants 
of the compartment raised their eyes as the door 
opened, only one of the number displayed any 
interest in the boy’s advent. 

The single exception was a tall, loose- jointed 
man, who, with his chair turned toward the win- 
dows, sat with long legs doubled up almost to his 
chin and a book face-down in his lap. As the door 
opened he turned his head and looked attentively 
at the breathless and still somewhat white-faced 
youth who entered. Joe paused to take another 
full breath before undertaking the passage of the 
swaying car and in that moment his eyes encoun- 
tered those of the man. The man raised a long, 
lean hand and beckoned with a finger. Joe made 


FIRST BASE FAULKNER 


273 


his way to him and the passenger, undoubling 
himself, stretched a foot out, hooked it about the 
leg of the next chair and pulled it beside his own. 

“Sit down,” he said. He had a remarkable 
voice, Joe thought, and equally remarkable eyes, 
very light blue-gray in colour, that somehow com- 
pelled obedience. Joe embarrassedly seated 
himself. 

“That's a good way to get killed,” said the 
man calmly. “Don't you know that?” 

“I suppose it is, sir. I didn't stop to think 
much about it.” 

“ I wouldn’t make a practice of it. I take it 
that the other fellow got aboard all right.” 

“The other fellow?” faltered Joe. 

“Yes, the — ah — the gentleman who tried to 
put his fist in your face.” 

“Oh! You saw ” 

“I happened to be looking out the window. 
You side-stepped very neatly. Fellow a friend of 
yours?” 

“Not exactly.” Joe smiled faintly. There 
was an answering twinkle in the light blue eyes. 

“No? But you evidently couldn't bear to part 
with him. It's not my business, but I'm curious 
to know the story. Fact is, I make my living 
from stories. I get chaps like you to tell them 


274 FIRST BASE FAULKNER 

to me and then I write them down and sell them. 
It’s a very simple way to make a fortune.’ ’ 

Joe smiled uncertainly. It sounded as if the 
other was joking, but his expression was quite 
serious. He had a lean, clean-shaven face, with 
many deep wrinkles. His nose was long and 
straight and his mouth rather large. Somehow, 
though, it was a nice face and inspired confi- 
dence. 4 ‘ There isn’t much story,” said Joe hesi- 
tantly. “The — the other fellow has something 
that belongs to me and I want to get it.” 

“Situation Number Three,” murmured the 
man. ‘ 6 Hackneyed, but capable of interesting and 
even novel variations.” 

“Sir?” asked Joe. 

“May I ask what is the value of the something 
the other chap has of yours? It’s interesting some- 
times to know for what amount a person will risk 
his life. Personally I wouldn’t do it for less than 
two hundred and fifty thousand dollars. Not 
now, that is. There was a time, when I was con- 
siderably younger, when I dare say I ’d have done 
it for considerably less; say for five thousand — 
or nothing at all. In your case now ” 

“It’s only about seventy-five dollars,” replied 
Joe. “He — he stole it.” 

The man nodded. “Naturally. Seventy-five 


FIRST BASE FAULKNER 


275 


dollars, though, seems an inadequate reward for 
a broken neck. Any kind of a respectable funeral 
would cost all of that. I don’t see that you stood 
to win much.” 

“I’m afraid I didn’t stop to think of all that, 
sir. He jumped on the train and so I — I jumped 
on, too!” 

“I see. And now?” 

Joe hesitated. “I suppose I’ll have to get him 
arrested in Toledo if he won’t give it up with- 
out.” 

“Why didn’t you call a policeman at that last 
place?” 

“I didn’t see one. Besides, I thought he’d 
give the money back without any fuss when he 
saw that I had caught him.” 

“But he wouldn’t?” 

“No, sir.” 

“Perhaps he hasn’t got it with him. Perhaps 
he’s spent it.” 

“I don’t think so. You see ” 

“But I don’t see,” said the man, with a smile. 
“I want to, though. Starting at the beginning, 

now ” He doubled his long legs up again, 

clasped his hands around them and observed Joe 
expectantly and encouragingly. Joe hesitated, 
smiled, and told his story. During the recital the 


276 FIRST BASE FAULKNER 

gray-blue eyes watched him intently and their 
owner maintained absolute silence. There was 
but one interruption, and that was when the con- 
ductor came in. Joe reached for his money, but 
the man gently pushed his hand away from his 
pocket. 

“ Pardon me,” he said gently, “but it’s my 
party.” He took out a very stunning gold- 
trimmed pocket-book, pulled a five-dollar note 
from it and handed it to the conductor. 

“Where to?” asked the latter. Joe’s new ac- 
quaintance questioned silently. 

“Toledo, I guess,” said Joe. “Do we stop be- 
fore we get there?” 

The conductor shook his head, made out the 
check, returned the change and took his depar- 
ture. 

“I’m much obliged,” said Joe, “but I didn’t 
mean for you to pay my fare, sir.” 

“I know you didn’t. But as you’re my guest 
it was only right that I should. So you guessed 
that that punch was coming, did you?” 

“Yes, sir, sort of. And then, when he swung 
around his bag struck me on the knees and I went 
back against the wall.” 

“To be continued in our next,” murmured the 
other. He examined his watch. “We’ll be in 


FIE ST BASE FAULKNER 


277 


Toledo in about ten minutes, I think. So perhaps 
you ’d better go and see your friend. Afterwards 
come back here and tell me what the result is. 
It would be too commonplace to bring the police 
into this. So well just put our heads together 
and find an artistic denouement. ’ ’ 

Joe hurried through the three Pullman cars 
and through an equal number of day-coaches 
without finding Mr. Chester Young. But in the 
next, the smoking car, the sight of that gentle- 
man rewarded him as he closed the door. Young 
was seated half-way along the car, smoking a 
cigarette and figuring on the back of an envelope. 
Beside him, on the other half of the seat, rested 
the suit-case. 

Joe walked quietly down the aisle. Young 
didn’t see him until he had laid hand on the bag. 
Then, with an alarmed grasp at the suit-case, 
Young raised his eyes. His jaw dropped ludi- 
crously and the cigarette in his mouth rolled to 
the floor, and while Joe set the suit-case aside 
and seated himself Young continued to regard 
him in stupefied amazement. 


CHAPTER XXII 


THE AMATEUR DETECTIVE 

“Well,” said Joe finally, “thought better of 
it, Young?” 

Young found his voice then and for at least 
two minutes gave vent to his feelings, which, 
judging from the expressions he made use of, 
were far from pleasant. When, at last, breath 
or fresh invectives failed him, Joe said: “Young, 
you might as well be sensible about this. We’ll 
be in Toledo in a few minutes and there’ll be an 
officer waiting for us. What’s the good of going 
to jail for seventy-five dollars? Why don’t you 
give me back what you stole and have an end 
of it?” 

Young, having regained his breath, indulged in 
a few more well-chosen remarks derogatory to 
Joe’s character. After which he declared that 
he knew nothing about the money, never saw it, 
didn’t have it, and wouldn’t give it up if he had! 

“Well,” said Joe impatiently, “you’ve had 
plenty of chances to give it back without fuss, 
278 


FIRST BASE FAULKNER 279 

Young. So don’t blame me for anything that 
happens after this.” He got up and went off 
down the aisle, leaving Mr. Chester Young scowl- 
ing somewhat anxiously after him. In the library 
compartment Joe reported the result of his mis- 
sion. 

“I guess,” he said regretfully, “ there’s noth- 
ing to do now but try to get him arrested.” 

“Are you certain he means to get off at 
Toledo!” asked the man. 

“N-no, I’m not. He bought a ticket for Toledo, 
though. ’ ’ 

“Hm. Well, we’d better be ready in case he 
does. I’ll go and get my things ready.” 

“Are you getting off there!” asked Joe as the 
other pulled his six feet and four or five inches 
from the chair. 

“Do you know,” replied the man, “I’m never 
certain when I start out where I’ll fetch up! It’s 
queer that way.” He stretched his long arms 
and smiled whimsically down at the boy. “Once 
I started off for Chicago and brought up in 
Buenos Aires. After all, it’s the uncertainty 
that makes life interesting, eh!” 

The stranger proceeded to the second car 
ahead, changed the cap he was wearing for a 
derby, strapped up a battered kit-bag, took his 


280 FIRST BASE FAULKNER 

overcoat from the hook, and went forward again. 
Near the rear door of the smoking car was an 
unoccupied seat, and in this the two seated them- 
selves. Joe pointed out the refractory Mr. Young 
to his companion, who examined what was to be 
seen of his back with a disappointed expression. 

“Very weak,” he muttered. “ Hardly worthy 
of our talents, my friend. Observe the narrow- 
ness of the head between the ears. A sure sign 
of weakness of character. I have it myself. I 
think we can safely assume that he is not going 
to leave us here. If he were he’d be stirring 
around . 9 9 

The train was running into the yard at Toledo 
now and many of the occupants of the car were 
donning coats and rounding up their luggage. 
The prediction proved correct. The train rolled 
into the station, but Mr. Chester Young kept his 
place. That he was nervous was evident from 
the manner in which he peered through the win- 
dow and more than once looked anxiously back 
along the car. He did not, however, see Joe, 
since the latter was hidden by his companion. 
The train remained in the station for some five 
minutes before it started off again towards 
Detroit, and during that time, it is natural to 
suppose, Mr. Chester Young was by no means en- 


FIRST BASE FAULKNER 281 

joying himself. It seemed to Joe that he could 
almost hear Young’s sigh of relief when the sta- 
tion lights slipped away from them again! 

Presently Joe’s companion, who had been silent 
most of the time during the stop, arose and sig- 
nalled the former to follow him. Down the aisle 
they went. The seat directly in front of Young 
had just been vacated, and the tall man turned 
the back over, set his bag down, and seated him- 
self facing Young, draping his overcoat across 
his knees and patting the seat beside him invit- 
ingly as Joe hesitated. 

“Sit down,” he said pleasantly. “That’s it. 
Now, then, here we are all together.” He turned 
to the astonished Mr. Chester Young and re- 
garded him smilingly. “I guess,” he went on, 
“we can settle this all up nicely before we reach 
Detroit, eh? We’ve got a lot of time ahead of 
us and needn’t hurry.” 

“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” 
sputtered Young, darting a venomous look at 
Joe. “You haven’t anything on me.” 

“Now, now!” The intruder lifted a lean hand 
deprecatingly. “Don’t let us start off that way, 
my friend. Let’s be good-natured and just talk 
things over a bit. Why, bless you, I’m not com- 
plaining a mite, am I? When the chief called me 


282 


FIRST BASE FAULKNER 


up and said, 4 Beat it to the station and find a fel- 
low named Young/ I was just getting ready for a 
nice, long snooze. I was up most of last night 
and was counting a lot on my sleep. Well, it’s 
all in the day’s work with us Central Office tecs, 
and I’m a natural-born philosopher. So here I 
am, and no hard feelings.” 

The expression on Young’s face changed from 
angry defiance to alarm. He swallowed once with 
difficulty, almost losing his cigarette in the opera- 
tion, and then his gaze darted quickly about as 
though seeking an avenue of escape. The man 
opposite leaned over and patted his knee. 

“ Don’t think of that,” he said soothingly. 
“You couldn’t get away if you tried. Besides, 
you’d break your neck if you slipped off with the 
train going forty miles. Don’t try any foolish 
business, my friend. Just keep calm and good- 
tempered and let’s talk it all over nicely.” 

“I haven’t got anything to talk over,” mut- 
tered Young. 

“Sure you have!” The man chuckled. 
“You’ve got seventy-five dollars! We can do a 
lot of talking about seventy-five dollars, eh? 
Come on now, cards on the table, Young. What’s 
your idea of it?” 

“Idea of what?” Young was rather pale, but 


FIRST BASE FAULKNER 283 

he managed to put some assurance into his ques- 
tion. The man lighted a cigar with much deliber- 
ation. 

“Why, I mean what are you thinking of doing? 
Now, here’s my advice to you. You don’t need 
to take it, you know. I shan’t mind if you don’t. 
If I were you I’d get together what you’ve got 
left of that seventy-five and hand it over. See? 
Then we’d just wish each other luck and I’d drop 
off at the first stop and report ‘nothing doing’ at 
the office. That would be the simplest thing. But 
you can come on back to Toledo if you want to 
and face the music. Only that makes a lot of 
trouble for you and me and this fellow here. You 
spend the night in a cell, I don’t get to sleep be- 
fore one o’clock, and this fellow has to lie around 
until your case comes up in the morning. Still, 
I don’t want to persuade you against your own 
judgment. It’s all in the day’s work for me.” 
He leaned back and smiled pleasantly at 
Young. 

“You’ve only got his say-so for it,” exclaimed 
Young desperately. “Why, I never saw him until 
he came up to me in the station at Fremont! I 
don’t know anything about him. It — it’s a 
frame-up, that’s what it is! If you arrest me 
you’ll get into trouble. I— I’ve got friends in 


284 FIRST BASE FAULKNER 
Toledo, and they’ll make it hot for you, all 
right ! ’ ’ 

“Sure, I know. We get that line of talk all the 
time,’ ’ was the untroubled response. “You know 
your own business better than I do. If you didn’t 
take this fellow’s money, why, all right.” 

“Of course I didn’t ! Why, look here, I’ll show 
you!” Young pulled a purse from his pocket 
and eagerly spread its contents out. “That’s 
every cent I’ve got to my name! Seventy-five 
dollars! Gee, if I had seventy-five dollars I’d be 
back there in a Pullman, believe me!” 

“That’s so. Still, you might have spent the 
difference. How much you got there!” 

‘ 1 Nineteen, about ! I had twenty-five when I — 
when I was in Fremont, and this fellow” — he 
darted a triumphant look at Joe — “braced me 
for a dollar to get something to eat. Then, when 
he saw I had more, he began some wild yarn 
about my stealing money from him. Why, I guess 
he’s crazy!” 

The tall man turned and looked attentively at 
Joe. “Is that right!” he asked. “Did you get 
a dollar from him at Fremont!” 

Joe shook his head, not trusting himself to 
speak for fear he would laugh. The supposed 
detective sighed. 


FIRST BASE FAULKNER 


285 


“Well, I don't know! Of course, if they find 
only nineteen dollars on you when they frisk you 

at the station ” 

“Frisk me?” faltered Young. 

“Sure; search you; go through your clothes. 
And your bag . ’ 9 

Young shot a troubled look at the suit-case 
beside him. “No one’s got any right to search 
me,” he muttered. “And — and you can’t arrest 
me, either, without a warrant ! ’ ’ 

“Bless your heart, friend, if we waited for 
warrants we’d miss half the fun! Here comes 
the conductor. Better not buy beyond Monroe. 
We’ll get off there and beat it back.” 

“Why don’t you believe what I’m telling you?” 
demanded Young anxiously. “I never saw this 
fellow or his money. Say, you aren’t really go- 
ing to take me just on what he says, are you ? ’ ’ 
“Orders are orders, friend, and I got mine,” 
was the reply. “But don’t you bother. If you 
didn’t get his money you’ll get off all right to- 
morrow morning. And we’ve got a good, com- 
fortable jail in Toledo, too.” 

“That’s all right,” faltered Young, his gaze 
on the approaching conductor, “but — but if he 
tells them a pack of lies, how do I know they won’t 
believe him instead of me? You do yourself!” 


286 


FIRST BASE FAULKNER 


“Me? Pshaw, now, I don’t believe anyone. 
This fellow says you did and you say you didn’t. 
It doesn’t make a scrap of difference to me, 
anyway. It’s up to the judge in the morn- 
ing. ’ ’ 

“Well, but — say ” Young leaned across 

confidentially, lowering his voice. “Now, look 
here, sir. I don’t want to have to go back to 
Toledo. I’m in a hurry. I’ve got a sick father 
in Detroit, I have. Now, say I give this fellow 
what I’ve got with me? Eh? I’d pay that not 
to have to go back. What do you say?” 

“Well, that’s up to him,” was the reply. 
“What do you say?” The man turned inquir- 
ingly to Joe. 

“If he will give me all the money he has with 
him, all right,” Joe answered. “I’ll be satisfied. 
I dare say he’s spent a good bit of it.” 

“But I’ve got to keep enough to pay my fare 
to Detroit,” said Young eagerly. 

Joe nodded. “All right. Pay your fare to 
Detroit and give me the rest.” 

“Well, that’s what I call sensible,” said the 
impromptu detective. “What’s the use of going 
to a heap of trouble when you can avoid it, eh? 
Hello, Conductor. One to Detroit and” — he 
looked a question at Joe. 


FIRST BASE FAULKNER 287 

“I guess I’ll go to Detroit, too,” was the re- 
sponse. 

“Two Detroits, eh? All right, gentlemen. 
Thank you. Let me see, you’re ” He ob- 

served the tall man doubtfully. 

“Yes, you know me,” was the response, ac- 
companied by a nod toward the rear of the 
train. 

“I thought so.” The conductor returned the 
change to Young and to Joe and passed on. 
Young, his purse still in his hand, counted out 
the remaining contents of it. 

“There’s nearly eighteen dollars,” he said 
easily. “You might leave me enough for car-fare 
to get to my house with, but I won’t ask it.” 

“Keep out the silver,” said Joe, “and give me 
the bills.” 

Young obeyed and passed over a ten, a five, 
and two ones. “You’re witness that I paid this 
to him,” he challenged the third member of the 
group. The tall man nodded. 

“I’m witness you’ve paid him seventeen dol- 
lars,” he agreed. “Go ahead.” 

“Go ahead? What do you mean, go ahead?” 
asked Young with a scowl. 

“Why, I mean go ahead and pay him the rest 
of it.” 


288 


FIRST BASE FAULKNER 


“The rest of it! He agreed to take what I had 
here ” 

“What you had with you, my friend,’ ’ inter- 
rupted the other. “Be good now and don’t let’s 
have any more trouble.” He reached across and 
pushed Young’s suit-case toward him. “Open 
her up, friend, and dig down!” 

“I tell you I ain’t got ” 

“I heard you, too,” was the wearied response. 
1 1 But we ’ll take the money that ’s in the suit-case, 
I think. Come across with it, Young!” 

“You’re a couple of thieves! There ain’t any 
money in there ! I ’ ’ 

“ Seeing ’s believing, my friend. Just open 
that up and show us.” 

“I won’t! You’ve got all you’re going to 
get!” He took the suit-case on his knees and 
hugged his arms over it. “What’s in here is 
mine ! ’ ’ 

“Oh, so there is some in there, eh!” The tall 
man chuckled. “Well, pass it over. Stand by 
your bargain and don’t play baby. And get a 
move on, too. We’ll be in Monroe in about ten 
minutes and then it’ll be too late.” 

Young glared at the other in impotent rage, 
but the make-believe Central Office man returned 
his gaze calmly, untroubledly, compellingly. For 


FIRST BASE FAULKNER 289 

a long moment Young hesitated. Then, with a 
shrug of his shoulders, he tugged at the straps, 
opened the suit-case and drew a cigarette box 
from under the layers of clothing. 

4 ‘ There/ ’ he growled, and tossed the box into 
the man’s lap. Inside it were five folded ten- 
dollar bills. The man smoothed them out, counted 
them and passed them silently to Joe. 

“Fifty and seventeen is sixty-seven,” he said. 
“That good enough ?” he asked. 

Joe nodded as he stowed the money safely in 
a pocket. “That’s near enough,” he said. “I 
ought to make him pay back what it ’s cost me to 
get it, but I won’t.” He turned to Young. “I’m 
going to hand nine and a half of this to Mrs. Ben- 
nett,” he said. “She needs it more than I do, I 
guess.” 

Young sneered. “What do I care what you do 
with it? You’re easy, anyway. If I hadn’t been 
a fool I’d have got clean away.” Then, fearing 
perhaps that he had admitted too much, he 
glanced furtively at the man. “We’re quits now, 
ain’t we?” 

“Oh, yes, we’re quits. Or, rather, we’re more 
than quits, Young. I’m really in your debt for 
an interesting experience. It’s the first time I 
ever impersonated a detective and, although I 


290 


FIRST BASE FAULKNER 


may be taking too much credit, I think I did it 
rather well, eh!” 

“What!” squealed Young. “You ain’t a — 
a ” 

“My friend,” was the smiling reply, “I’m only 
a poor writer of tales who has been doing his best 
to relieve the tedium of a dull journey. The next 
time you have dealings with a detective, and 
something tells me there ’s going to be a next time, 
you ask to be shown his badge. Never take any- 
thing for granted, my friend. It’s a wicked world 
and there are, unfortunately, folks in it ever ready 
to impose on the credulity of the young and — 
ah — innocent. Good-night, Mr. Young. And 
thanks for the amusement you’ve so kindly af- 
forded.” 

They left him crumpled up in the corner, still 
holding his open suit-case, an expression of 
mingled wrath and incredulity on his face. 

Joe’s new friend led the way back to his chair 
in the Pullman, where he deposited bag and coat 
and again changed from derby to cap. Then they 
returned to the library car and viewed each other 
smilingly from opposite chairs. 

“I was right about the narrowness of the skull 
between the ears,” observed the man reflectively. 
“Mr. Young is weak, lamentably weak, and will 


» 



“ IVhat /” squealed Young;. “You ain’t a 

» > 

a 



FIRST BASE FAULKNER 291 

not, I feel sure, ever make a success in his chosen 
profession.” 

“His chosen profession?” repeated Joe ques- 
tioningly. 

“Yes, thieving. Perhaps it’s all for the best, 
however. Finding himself unable to prosper in 
that line, he may turn honest. Let us hope so. 
And now there’s one small formality we’ve 
neglected. Suppose we learn each other’s 
names ? ’ ’ 

“Mine is Joseph Faulkner, sir.” 

“And mine is Graham — J. W. Graham. The 
J stands for John and the W for Westley.” 

“Westley Graham!” exclaimed Joe. “Why, I 
know who you are ! I mean I ’ve read stories ’ ’ 

“Yes, I don’t doubt it. You could scarcely fail 
to, my boy, for I write a horrible lot of them. I 
try not to, but they will out, like murder — or 
measles! Ever read any you liked?” 

“Why, I like them all!” cried Joe. “They’re 
dandy! There was one last month about a man 
who discovered an island that nobody knew 
about, and ” 

“Yes, I recall that. Well, I’m glad you like 
them, my boy. I do myself, when I’m writ- 
ing them, but afterwards I try hard to forget 
them.” 


292 FIRST BASE FAULKNER 

“But why, sir?” Joe’s eyes opened very wide. 
‘ 1 1 wish I could write stories like those ! ’ 9 

“Do you? I try to forget them because I come 
of Puritan ancestry. Know anything about the 
Puritans, Faulkner?” 

“Why, I know wdiat it tells in the history, 
sir.” 

“Perhaps history doesn’t particularly empha- 
sise the quality I have in mind, however. The 
Puritans were endowed with the ineradicable be- 
lief that whatever gave one pleasure in the doing 
was wrong. All my life I have been at odds with 
my inherited Puritan principles. Every time I 
write one of those stories Conscience sits at my 
elbow and weeps. I try to console myself with 
the promise that some day before I pass on I shall 
write something very dull and very learned and 
very, very difficult, something that I shall utterly 
detest doing. But never mind my soul worries 
now. Tell me something about you, Faulkner. 
What do you do when you don’t chase over 
the country apprehending defaulting clerks? 
You told me you were going to school, I 
think?” 

So Joe talked then and, prompted by questions, 
told more about himself than he ever remembered 
confessing to anyone. But Mr. Graham had a 


FIRST BASE FAULKNER 293 

way of making one talk that Joe couldn’t resist. 
In the midst of his narrative the conductor bore 
down on them again and Mr. Graham, despite 
Joe’s protest, paid for the latter’s seat in the 
Pullman to Detroit. And, later, although it 
scarcely seemed a half-hour since they had parted 
from the overwhelmed Mr. Chester Young in the 
smoking car, they rolled into Detroit and it was 
after midnight! 

“When I come to this town,” said Mr. Graham 
as they waited in the vestibule for the train to 
stop, “I always put up at a small hotel on Grand 
River Avenue. It isn’t sumptuous, but it’s neat 
and quiet and they allow me to sleep late. Now, 
I propose that we walk leisurely up there, in order 
to stretch our legs, and that you become my guest 
for the night. In the morning we’ll have some 
breakfast together and then I’ll see you on your 
way back.” 

“But I don’t think,” stammered Joe. “I 
mean I oughtn’t to let you do so much for me, 
Mr. Graham! I’ve got enough money to 
pay ” 

“The money you have, Faulkner, belongs, as 
I understand it, to the firm of Faulkner and — 
well, whatever the other chap’s name is. And if 
you dissipate it in riotous living you’ll be a de- 


294 FIRST BASE FAULKNER 

faulter yourself. No, I think — Look, isn’t that 
our friend Mr. Young there? It is. I wonder, 
now, what he’s going to do in this town without 
money. Excuse me a minute.” 

Mr. Graham left Joe at the car steps and dived 
hurriedly through the crowd about the train. 
Joe followed his course easily enough, since he 
was a head taller than most persons there, and 
so was witness to the little scene enacted on the 
platform beyond the crowd. Mr. Graham over- 
took Young there and for a moment they talked. 
Then the former put his hand in his pocket, drew 
forth his purse and passed some money to the 
other. After that, a hand on Young’s shoulder, 
Mr. Graham talked a moment longer. When he 
returned to Joe he picked up his bag and led the 
way out to Fort Street. 

“I’m wondering,” he said as they stepped out 
briskly in search of the hotel where one could 
sleep late in the morning, “how much a promise 
is worth, Faulkner.” 

“How much did you pay for it, sir?” asked 
Joe. 

Mr. Graham laughed softly. “So you spied on 
me, eh? Well, it didn’t cost me much, Faulkner, 
but at that I’m afraid I overpaid. Here we are. 
Four blocks up Second Street and we’re almost 


FIRST BASE FAULKNER 295 

there. I’m beginning to be a little bit sleepy. 
How about you?” 

“I’m dead tired, sir.” 

“Are you? Well, you can sleep as late as you 
like in the morning!” 


CHAPTER XXIII 


“batter up!” 

Joe returned to Amesville at a little before three 
on Sunday afternoon. He had meant to 
get back much earlier, but several things had pre- 
vented. In the first place, he had unintentionally 
taken advantage of the privilege of late slumber 
afforded by the quiet hotel and had not awakened 
until after eight o’clock, a most unusual proceed- 
ing for Joe! But, late as he had been, he had 
dressed and was reading a morning newspaper 
before Mr. Graham appeared. Breakfast was a 
leisurely ceremony and a surprisingly pleasant 
one. Joe had never seen anyone pay so much 
attention to the ordering of a meal as the writer 
did, and when it came it was quite unlike any 
breakfast Joe had ever partaken of. Straw- 
berries were served with the stems on, a half- 
dozen big, luscious ones arranged in a circle about 
a pyramid of powdered sugar. Joe waited, at 
a loss as to how to proceed, until Mr. Graham 
had shown the way by lifting a berry by its stem, 
296 


FIRST BASE FAULKNER 297 

dipping it in the sugar and transferring it to his 
mouth. His host, without appearing to observe 
J oe ’s hesitation, explained that strawberries 
eaten in that way were far easier to digest than 
when accompanied by cream. Then had arrived, 
after finger-bowls, two half chickens, broiled and 
laid on toast, Julienne potatoes — only Joe called 
them “shoestring” — tiny crisp, crescent-shaped 
rolls, orange marmalade, coffee — this, too, with- 
out cream, fashioned on the table in some bewil- 
dering way with boiled milk and a tiny pat of 
sweet butter! — and, last but by no means least, 
golden-brown griddle-cakes served with honey. 

That had been a wonderful breakfast, indeed, 
and Joe had eaten until he felt ashamed of him- 
self, but without, since they spent all of an hour 
at the table with the June sunshine lying across 
the white napery and glistening on the silver, any 
after discomfort. Later, when Joe had spoken 
of a ten o’clock train, Mr. Graham vetoed the 
plan at once, lightly but firmly, and they had 
taken a long walk, during which the writer, who 
seemed to know everything in the city worth see- 
ing and the shortest way to reach it, had made 
Joe work his shorter legs to the utmost to keep 
up with his companion’s giant strides! 

At the station Mr. Graham had gone to the 


298 


FIRST BASE FAULKNER 


news-stand and doubtless vastly surprised the 
attendant by selecting four books from the pen 
of Westley Graham. From there they went to 
the ledge outside the ticket office and Mr. Graham 
wrote Joe’s name and his own on the fly-leaf of 
each and then piled them into the boy’s arms. 
After that, in spite of Joe’s earnest protests, he 
had bought the latter’s ticket and parlour car 
seat. 

4 ‘You can get some lunch at Toledo,” said Mr. 
Graham. “You’ll have twenty minutes there.” 

“I shan’t ever want to eat again,” replied Joe 
with a wistful recollection of that breakfast. 

The other laughed. “Oh, yes, you will. 
You’ll be hungry by the time you reach Toledo. 
If you’re not, you’re no real boy.” At the par- 
lour car steps Mr. Graham shook hands warmly. 
“Good-bye, Faulkner,” he said. “We’ve had 
rather a jolly little party, haven’t we! I’ve en- 
joyed it, anyhow. Good luck to you, my boy. 
You’ll find an address in one of those books that 
usually gets me. Drop me a line some day and 
tell me how you’re getting on. Let me know who 
wins that game on Wednesday. I’d like to see 
that.” 

“I don’t suppose you ever get to Amesville!” 
asked Joe anxiously. 


FIRST BASE FAULKNER 


299 


“Amesville?” Mr. Graham smiled. “I get 
everywhere sooner or later, Faulkner. Whether 
I do or don’t, we’ll run across each other again 
some day. That’s my experience. It’s a wee hit 
of a world, after all, and a mighty nice thing 
about it is that friends are always meeting.” 

Joe had opened one of the books as soon as he 
had had his last glimpse of Mr. Graham on the 
station platform, and, in spite of the latter’s pre- 
diction, had not lunched at Toledo. Instead, he 
sat on a baggage truck and pursued the adven- 
tures of the hero of the tale with a breathless in- 
terest that almost lost him his train to Ames- 
ville ! 

His first act when he got home was to seek Mr. 
Chase, the station agent. But that gentleman 
was not on duty and so J oe enclosed the borrowed 
money in an envelope, scribbled a note that re- 
counted the success of his expedition and thanked 
Mr. Chase for his assistance, and left it at the 
office. 

It was a worried and anxious Aunt Sarah who 
met him at the door, and Joe’s first half-hour at 
home was devoted to a full and complete history 
of the past twenty-four hours, during which he 
was made to drink two cups of tea and eat three 
slices of currant cake. Then he called up the 


300 


FIRST BASE FAULKNER 


Strobes’ house, found that Jack had been asking 
for him and was at last able to see him, and forth- 
with hurried to the meeting. Jack was swathed 
in a dressing-robe and flanked by medicines and 
an atomiser when Joe found him, but he looked 
pretty healthy and declared that he felt fine to- 
day and was to go out tomorrow unless the pesky 
doctor changed his mind in the morning. 

“I was frightened to death I wouldn’t be able 
to play Wednesday,” he said; “but I can. Say, 
did Frank play Saturday?” 

“Yes, he did, Jack, for a couple of innings; no, 
three.” 

Jack groaned. “It’s all up, then! Bat will 
put him in Wednesday just out of kindness. Isn’t 
that rotten luck? Who invented quinsy, any- 
way?” 

“Edison, I suppose.” 

“Oh, it’s all well enough for you to grin, but I 
lose that wager and Handsome Frank will be 
more conceited than ever! And I won’t get that 
bat-case ” 

“I’ll buy that for you if you’ll shut up about 
it,” declared Joe desperately. 

“I don’t want you to. I can buy it myself, for 
that matter. It — it’s beating Frank that mat- 
ters.” 


FIRST BASE FAULKNER 301 

“And only tlie other day yon were saying that 
you were sorry for 11 ™!” 

“Well, I’m not today,” said Jack grimly. 
4 4 Say, where were you all the morning ? I thought 
surely you’d come around or call up.” 

“Most of the morning I was in Detroit,” 
answered Joe soberly. 

4 4 In Detroit ! What do you mean, Detroit ? ’ ’ 

“Detroit, Michigan. There isn’t any other, is 
there ? ’ ’ 

“You mean you’ve been to Detroit today?” 
asked Jack incredulously. Joe shook his head. 

“I came from there today. I went last night.” 

Jack stared unbelievingly. “What for? 
What’s the joke?” 

“For seventy-five dollars,” replied Joe, smil- 
ingly. “And I got it, or most of it.” 

“Say, are you batty?” demanded Jack impa- 
tiently. “What seventy-five dollars? What’s 
the big idea ? ’ ’ 

So Joe told his story once more, while Jack’s 
eyes got bigger and rounder and he hurled ques- 
tions at the narrator breathlessly. And when he 
had heard all about it and had had every last 
detail explained to his satisfaction he deliberately 
kicked over a chair. 

“Wouldn’t that make you sick?” he exclaimed. 


302 FIRST BASE FAULKNER 

“I have to go and get quinsy and lose all that 
fun! Of course Young couldn’t have sneaked off 
when I was well! Oh, dear, no! It had to be 
when I was laid up! Hang the luck, anyway! 
Say, if I’d been along, Joey, I’d have punched his 
head!” 

“ Just as well you weren’t, then,” laughed Joe. 
“As it was, everything went off quietly and 
strictly according to the rules-book.” 

“Well, what do you know about it!” marvelled 
Jack. “Joey, when they named you ‘Lucky’ 
Faulkner they hit it just about right ! Why, you 
didn’t have one chance in ten thousand to get that 
money back ! ’ ’ 

“I guess that’s so. Come to think of it, Jack, 
I didn’t get it back. It was Mr. Graham did it.” 

“Never mind who did it, you brought it home. 
Now what are we going to do for someone to look 
after the stand?” 

“I’ve been thinking that the best thing would 
be to put the tin box back for a few days. School 
closes Thursday, and after that we can look after 
it ourselves.” 

“All right. I dare say four days won’t lose us 
much. I wonder, though, how we’re going to like 
sticking around that lobby when the hot weather 
comes. That won’t be so pleasant, eh?” 


FIRST BASE FAULKNER 


303 


“I don’t believe the Adams Building will be 
hotter than any other place,” replied Joe. “ Any- 
way, if we’re going to earn money we’ve got to 
work for it and put up with some things. I’ve 
got to be going now, Jack.” 

“What’s your hurry? I haven’t seen you for 
an age ! ’ ’ 

‘ 4 I’ll drop around after supper if you can see 
folks then. But I want to go and give this nine- 
fifty to Mrs. Bennett. I guess she needs it worse 
than we do.” 

Jack was back in school Monday morning, a bit 
weak in the legs, but otherwise as good as ever, 
or so he declared. He had two days of examina- 
tions to make up and, since he would not have 
been of much use to the team anyway, he stayed 
away from practice that afternoon and toiled over 
his papers in a deserted class-room under the 
eagle eye of one of the teachers. 

On Tuesday there was only an hour of light 
work for the players. The Second Team ended 
its season with a game with the grammar school, 
which it won in a breath-taking tenth inning rally, 
and the diamond was given over to the workmen 
who were to put it in shape for the morrow’s 
battle. 

Petersburg descended on Amesville the next 


304 


FIRST BASE FAULKNER 


day at noon and went to lunch at the principal 
hotel. She arrived nearly a hundred strong and 
armed with a multitude of gay banners, which 
she waved jubilantly as, luncheon over, the team 
and its followers took trolley cars to the field. 

Petersburg had gone through a more than 
usually successful season, playing nineteen games, 
of which she had won twelve and tied one. In 
Calvert she had a pitcher of known ability who 
had last year proved a good deal of a riddle to 
Amesville’s batters, and her second-choice twirler, 
Gorman, had been coming fast during the last 
month and had only a week ago held Minton 
School to one hit. For the rest, Petersburg had 
an average team, with a fast, snappy infield and 
an outfield composed of two veterans and one 
newcomer. Petersburg had not gained the repu- 
tation of a hard-hitting outfit this year, but an 
analysis of the scores of past conflicts would have 
shown that she had usually secured hits when 
they were most needed. 

Amesville, however, went into the game that 
afternoon with more confidence than usual. 
There had been seasons when she had had a 
strong pitching staff and a poor fielding team, 
seasons when she had been brilliant at fielding 
and weak at batting, and seasons when she could 


FIRST BASE FAULKNER 


305 


bat anything and had no talent in the box. But 
this year it was felt that the Brown-and-Blue was 
an evenly rounded nine with good pitchers, clever 
fielders, and the ability to bat, and most of the 
local rooters who filled the two stands behind first 
base and flowed over on to the field held that it 
was less a question of which team would win 
than what the score would be ! 

Petersburg had nearly an hour of practice be- 
fore Amesville trotted out to claim the diamond, 
and by that time the audience had assembled and 
the stage was set. The umpire had been imported 
from Lima, and, since he had presumably never 
heard of either Amesville or Petersburg High 
School in his life, was credited with being about 
as impartial as an umpire could be. He was a 
small, rotund, business-like-looking chap who 
wore the regulation blue flannels and had a voice 
like a mild-mannered bull. 

Amesville ’s batting order was as follows: 
Smith, s.; Morris, cf . ; Strobe, If.; Hale, 3b.; 
Peddie, 2b. ; Faulkner, lb. ; Cummings, rf . ; Craig, 
c. ; Pollock, p. Toby Williams hoped to get into 
the game before the curtain fell on the after- 
noon’s performance, and probably Carl Moran 
entertained a similar hope, but it was pretty cer- 
tain that Tom would remain on the mound as 


306 


FIRST BASE FAULKNER 


long as the opponent showed its teeth. On the 
bench, when the Amesville players trotted out for 
the opening inning, remained Williams, Moran, 
Foley, Loomis, Speyer, Johnson, a capable hitter 
from the disbanded Scrubs, and Buster Healey. 
Buster was not in playing togs, however, and he 
viewed the world from behind a pair of horn 
spectacles with thick lenses that gave him the ap- 
pearance of a wise owl. Manager Mifflin was 
there, too, with his battered score-book spread 
open on his knees, and so was Coach Talbot, in 
low-voiced conversation with Mr. John Hall, a 
privileged well-wisher of the team. 

At half-past two to the second Mr. Reardon, 
the imported umpire, faced the stands in “big- 
league” fashion and announced the batteries in 
a voice that carried easily to the outfield fence : 
“Batthery for Amesville, Pollock and Craig! 
For Petthersburg, Calvert and Beale. Batther 
up!” 


CHAPTER XXIV 


BUNCHED HITS 

i 1 First man, Tom ! ’ 9 

Sam Craig pulled his mask down, looked over 
the field and then knelt behind the plate. Tom, 
his arms at his sides, watched, nodded, himself 
turned and viewed the fielders, and pulled his cap 
down a bit further over his eyes. 

‘ 4 Come on, Tom! Let's have him!" called 
Gordon Smith. 

“Here we go!" cried Hale. 

Tom's hands came up to his chest, his foot went 
forward, cunning fingers wrapped themselves 
around the clean, new ball. At the plate Wiley, 
third baseman, squared himself and tentatively 
swung his bat. Behind him Captain Craig placed 
his feet apart and with slightly bent knees and 
out-thrust hands waited. Behind the third base 
line the visitors were still cheering and two noisy 
youths were encouraging the batsman from the 
coachers' boxes. Tom's arms went back above 
his head, his body lurched forward, his right hand 
shot out and a white streak sped away for the 
307 


308 FIRST BASE FAULKNER 

plate. A yellowish flash as the hat swept the 
air, the thud of ball against leather mitt, and the 
stentorian voice of the umpire: 

4 ‘ Shtrike ! ’ ’ 

Amesville cheered, while a chorus of approval 
arose from the fielders, and Sam, thumping the 
hall into the deep hollow of his big mitten, cried 
to Tom: “ That’s the stuff, Tom! Keep after 
him ! ’ 9 

On first, or, to be exact, well off of first and 
behind the base-path, Joe added his encourage- 
ment to the rest and, a bit nervously, perhaps, 
hitched at his trousers, which didn’t need a par- 
ticle of attention. Again the wind-up, leisurely 
and carefully made, and again the sphere flew 
toward the plate. It was a ball this time, and 
the batsman judged it correctly and let it severely 
alone. The cheers from the stands had died away 
now. A few latecomers were searching for points 
of vantage well back of the foul lines. The hot 
June sunlight fell radiantly on the backs of spec- 
tators and straw hats had already begun to wave 
in front of flushed faces. A second ball followed 
and then a drop that fooled the Petersburg third 
baseman brought the second strike. 

‘ 1 Two and two ! ’ ’ called Sam cheerfully. 1 ‘ Let ’s 
have him, Tom!” 


309 


FIRST BASE FAULKNER 

J oe, on his toes, waited. The hall shot forward 
again, the bat met it, Joe leaped to the base as 
Hale, coming in on the run, scooped up the tric- 
kling sphere and jerked it across the diamond. 
Squarely into Joe’s glove it thumped, his left foot 
touched the bag, and the runner, puffing hard, 
swerved aside. 

“One gone!” called Joe. “Let’s have the next 
one, Tom!” 

“One!” echoed Sam, pointing a dramatic 
fore-finger aloft. 

The next batsman, however, was not to be dis- 
posed of in any such manner. He picked out Tom’s 
second offering and sent it speeding between 
Smith and Peddie and raced across the first bag 
without challenge. The coachers redoubled their 
vocal energy. Twice Tom threw to Joe and twice 
the runner threw himself back to safety. Then 
Tom gave his attention to the Petersburg short- 
stop. With a strike and two balls on that youth, 
Tom tried to sneak one across in the groove. 
The shortstop was ready for it and the ball went 
screeching into right field. Cummings came in 
hard and got it on the bound, throwing to second. 
The first runner was on third by that time and 
Petersburg was yelling madly on stands and 
bench and coaching lines. 


310 


FIRST BASE FAULKNER 


The runner on first stole on the first ball, and 
Sam, faking a throw to second, slammed the ball 
to Tom. But the man on third held his place. 
With only one gone there was no use taking any 
chances. The Petersburg left fielder got himself 
into a hole at once, swinging twice at deceptive 
offerings. Then Tom wasted a couple and, 
finally, cut the outer corner of the plate and the 
batsman withdrew with trailing bat. But the 
trouble was not over yet, for the next man, the 
Petersburg left fielder, was more canny. He dis- 
dained the first two deliveries and the umpire 
called them both balls. Tom tried to fool him 
on an inshoot and again missed it. With three 
balls against him, Tom decided to pass the bats- 
man and so threw wide and the bases were filled. 
A hit meant two runs, and the hit was forthcom- 
ing a moment later when the Petersburg captain, 
Lyman, picked out something to his liking and 
raised it far and high into centre field. Morris 
and Cummings both went after it, but it was 
Sid’s ball and Sid should have had it. But when 
it dropped it failed to find its way into his hands, 
and amidst consternation and gloom in the Ames- 
ville ranks, two tallies crossed the platter ! 

There was a pathetic hunch to Sid’s shoulders 
as he turned and went back to his position. Then 


FIRST BASE FAULKNER 311 

Smith's cheerful “Never mind that, Sid! Here's 
another ! ' ' went back to him and he waved a hand 
answeringly. They were certainly finding Tom 
Pollock, Joe reflected ruefully, and glanced 
toward the bench to see if Toby was pulling off 
his coat. But there was no sign of anxiety there. 
After all, Joe added consolingly, it was only the 
first inning. Then he stopped thinking about it 
and sprinted across the line to pull down a high 
foul and make the second out. Then came the 
Petersburg catcher, a sturdy chap with a know- 
ing manner. But Tom was taking no chances 
and presently Beale walked to first, filling the 
bases for the second time, while Petersburg 
hissed. 

“What's wrong with Pollock?" asked Beale 
as he put a foot beside Joe's on the bag. 

“He'll settle down in a minute," answered Joe. 
“You chaps want to make the most of this in- 
ning." 

‘ 6 That 's what we 're doing, ' ' replied Beale with 
a laugh. 

The Petersburg pitcher started toward the 
plate, but was called back, and a tall youth took 
his place. He was Middleton, a substitute fielder, 
Beale explained as he danced away to a lead. 
But for once a pinch-hitter remained true to prec- 


312 


FIRST BASE FAULKNER 


edent. Tom tried him on a low ball, put a wide 
one across and then offered one of his famous 
‘ 4 knuckle balls.” That did the business effec- 
tively, for Middleton struck at it and Sam pulled 
it down three feet behind the plate. Amesville 
cheered encouragingly as their team flocked to 
the bench, and cheered again when Gordon Smith 
stepped to the plate. Gordon studied two deliv- 
eries from Calvert and heard one called a ball 
and the other a strike. Then he fouled off two, 
and, with the score two and one, landed against 
the next offering. But it went straight to short- 
stop and Gordon was an easy out. Sid Morris 
had no better luck, for his attempt at a hit was 
pulled down by centre fielder. Jack hit safely to 
left. Hale tried hard to get one out of the dia- 
mond, but failed, and Jack made the third out, 
short to second baseman. 

Tom found himself in the second inning and only 
four batsmen faced him, the third man up get- 
ting to first on a weak hit to Hale that jumped so 
erratically that it couldn’t be handled in time. 
Returning the compliment, Calvert also disposed 
of the enemy in three chapters, George Peddie 
striking out, Joe getting his base on balls, and 
Cummings and Craig fanning. 

In the next inning Petersburg got a runner to 


FIRST BASE FAULKNER 313 

third, but had to leave him there when, with two 
down, Cummings gathered in an easy fly that just 
escaped going foul. Tom Pollock opened things 
up in Amesville ’s half with a smashing drive into 
deep right that proved good for two bases and 
Amesville waved her banners and shouted wildly 
in acclaim. For awhile, however, it seemed that 
Tom would get no further, for Smiths best was 
a fly to second baseman and Sidney Morris, after 
fouling off a half-dozen, struck out. It was Jack 
who was destined to bring in the first tally. 
With two strikes against him he slammed a 
sizzling hit down the first base line, scoring Tom 
and taking second himself. That unsettled Cal- 
vert for the moment and Hale bunted toward 
third and barely beat out the throw. By this 
time Amesville clamoured triumphantly and Sam, 
at first, and Smith, behind third, added strident 
voices to the bedlam. With Jack on third, Hale’s 
steal of second went unchallenged, Peddie swing- 
ing harmlessly. Calvert followed that strike with 
two bad ones, one of which nearly got past the 
catcher, and then made the mistake of offering a 
fast out-shoot. Peddie was fond of those and he 
liked the present one especially and sent it arch- 
ing into short right field. The fielder scuttled in 
for it and Captain Lyman, at first base, ran back. 


314 FIRST BASE FAULKNER 

But the ball fell harmlessly to earth between 
them, by which time Jack had scored, Peddie was 
on first, and Hale was sprinting for the plate. 
Unfortunately, Hale had pulled up momentarily 
at third, in spite of Gordon Smith’s urging, and 
Captain Lyman’s quick, straight throw to the 
catcher killed him off at the rubber. 

But the score was 2 to 2, and Amesville settled 
back with sighs of satisfaction. Five hits for a 
total of seven bases was not bad in three innings, 
they argued, and a continuation of such work 
should win without trouble. But a continuation 
proved more than the Brown-and-Blue was capa- 
ble of. Petersburg went down one, two three in 
the fourth inning, but so did Amesville, and in the 
fifth and sixth she did little better so far as 
results were concerned. Calvert, after that first 
wobble, settled down to a fine, steady pace. In 
the fifth Sid Morris got to first on a pass and in 
the next inning Joe made his first hit of the game 
when two were down. But, although Cummings 
was passed, Sam Craig struck out. 

In the meanwhile Petersburg made the most in 
the fifth inning of a pass, a hit, and an error. Tom 
presented the first batsman with his base, thereby 
paving the way for trouble. The left fielder, who 
had already tasted blood in the third, got a safe 


FIRST BASE FAULKNER 


315 


hit past Smith and first and second bases were 
occupied with no one out. Captain Lyman’s drive 
got away from Tom Pollock’s glove and when he 
had recovered it the bags were all filled. The 
next man proved an easy out, retiring after four 
pitched balls, but Catcher Beale came through 
with a two-bagger to right that brought two more 
tallies across. Tom struck out the next pair. 

With the score 4 to 2, Amesville, as has been 
said, failed to help herself to anything in that 
inning or the sixth. Calvert was pitching his 
best, and Calvert at his best was a hard nut to 
crack. Petersburg retired in order in the sixth 
and seventh, Tom adding two more strike-outs 
to his growing list. 

When Tom Pollock went to the bat in the last 
of the seventh Amesville arose and demanded 
runs. “Here we go! It’s the lucky seventh! 
All up, High School ! Here ’s where we tie them ! ’ ’ 

The cheer leaders waved their megaphones and 
brought forth lusty encouragement, while Peters- 
burg, fewer in numbers, but possessed of willing 
lungs, hurled back defiance from across the sun- 
lit field. Joe, squeezed in between Jack and Steve 
Hale on the home bench, listened silently to the 
discussion. Coach Talbot was talking to Gordon 
Smith, next up, but the others were having it back 


316 


FIRST BASE FAULKNER 


and forth. Manager Mifflin, his black-covered 
score-book across his knees, was biting the end 
of his pencil nervously. 

“Someone’s got to start something this in- 
ning,” Sid Morris was saying. “He’s going to 
crack again before this game’s over, you mark 
my words. And when he does we want to be right 
there, fellows.” 

“Calvert’s gone twelve innings,” said Speyer, 
“without shedding a feather, and it looks to me 
as if he could do it today. ’ ’ 

“He’s shed a few feathers already,” replied 
Jack. “We had him going nicely in the third, 
and if things had worked right we might have 
been running yet. What happened at third, 
Walt?” 

“My fault, I guess,” answered Hale. “I 
thought that hit was shorter. Still, I ought to 
have kept on when Gordon was telling me to. I 
suppose I got rattled.” 

“I’ll take it on first,” said Captain Craig. 
“Toby, take third, will you? Play this safe till 
they’re two out and then pull ’em along any old 
way!” He walked apart with Gordon Smith and 
then hurried down to the coacher’s place at first, 
shouting encouragement to Tom as he went. 


CHAPTER XXV 


A DOUBLE UNASSISTED 

At the end of the bench sat Frank Foley, sombre 
gaze fixed on the batsman. Joe, seeing him, felt 
sorry for his defeated rival and wondered whether 
Mr. Talbot would put him in for an inning or two. 
He surely deserved it, thought Joe. It was hard 
lines having to sit there all through the big game 
without even a chance to warm his hands ! Only, 
he reflected, if Bat did put Foley in Jack would 
simply throw a fit! At that instant Foley hap- 
pened to turn his head and their looks met. If 
Joe, averting his own glance quickly, had expected 
to find anger or antagonism in the other’s eyes 
he was wrong. Foley met his gaze impersonally, 
unsmilingly. They were still cheering lustily on 
the stands when Calvert shot the first ball in. 
Then the noise died away, to start again as the 
umpire called: 

“Ball!” 

Another ball followed. Then a low one that 
looked good from the bench and, it seemed, looked 
317 


318 


FIRST BASE FAULKNER 


good to the umpire. Tom Pollock gravely studied 
the plate, took a new grip of his bat, and waited 
once more. The next effort was wild and the 
hall almost got past the catcher. Amesville 
shouted and jeered and the two coachers danced 
and waved and made noise any way they could. 
Again Calvert pitched, and once more the hall 
went wide. 

‘ 4 Four balls !” announced Mr. Reardon. “Take 
your base ! ’ ’ 

“Here’s where we start!” cried Jack, excitedly 
thumping Joe’s knee. “Go to it, Gordon, old 
scout! You know what to do!” 

“It’s the lucky seventh!” shouted the Ames- 
ville rooters ecstatically. “Smash it, Smith! 
Bring him in! Here we go, fellows!” 

After that for many minutes Joe was too ex- 
cited and anxious to know what was going on 
around him, although once during the subsequent 
proceedings he had a dim notion that Mr. John 
Hall and Coach Talbot were shaking hands and 
that Walter Cummings had fallen backwards over 
the water carboy! They were cheering Smith 
now as he faced the pitcher with “sacrifice bunt” 
written large all over him. But Smith wasn’t 
destined to sacrifice. Calvert simply wouldn’t 
allow him to. He, too, ambled to first on a free 


FIRST BASE FAULKNER 319 

ticket and bedlam broke loose in the Amesville 
stand. Men on first and second with none out 
and only two runs needed to tie ! This was indeed 
the lucky seventh ! Then came Sid Morris, after 
listening to Coach Talbot’s instructions, and Sid 
was there to hit, as he soon proved by swinging 
at and missing two pretty poor balls. With the 
score two and two Fortune took a hand in the 
game. Calvert was noticeably nervous now and 
when the fifth delivery shot away from his hand — 
Sid had fouled off one — it twisted straight for the 
batsman. Sid stepped back, but not far enough, 
and the ball struck against his shoulder. He 
staggered away, dropping his bat and doubling 
over. But by the time two or three of his team- 
mates had leaped to his assistance he was smiling 
and shaking himself. 

“All right,” he said over his shoulder as he 
trotted down the line. 

That was the final undoing of Pitcher Calvert. 
Already the Petersburg second-choice twirler was 
warming up behind the first base stand. Calvert 
gazed anxiously around the filled bases, heard the 
frenzied shrieks of the coachers and the wild, 
disconcerting babel from the audience and faced 
the situation a bit wiltedly. The catcher soothed 
and reassured him from in front of the plate 


320 FIRST BASE FAULKNER 

and Calvert tried his best to come back. But 
Jack laid his bat against the very first ball that 
came his way and off screeched a line drive into 
left field, scoring Tom and Gordon Smith and 
placing Sid on third. Jack took second on the 
throw-in. 

Petersburg seemed inclined to stop the game 
then and there and have a consultation about it, 
but Umpire Reardon would allow no post- 
mortems. Calvert, the center of a group of dis- 
mayed players, yielded the ball and took that 
long walk from the box to the bench, cheered 
perfunctorily by friend and foe, and Gorman 
took up his task. Gorman was younger, smaller, 
and slighter, and that he didn’t at once stop the 
havoc being worked against Petersburg’s de- 
fences was not to be wondered at. Hale was now 
at bat and the hoarse cries of the Amesville fel- 
lows, mingled with the shrill shrieks of the coach- 
ers, whirled and eddied about his head, imploring 
him to clear the bases. In the meanwhile Peters- 
burg’s coaches were rushing about, giving in- 
structions to the fielders. Gorman had speed and 
lots of it, and Petersburg cheered loudly when 
his first offering cut the middle of the plate and 
went for a strike. But Hale was not to be denied 
and a moment later he connected with one of 


FIRST BASE FAULKNER 


321 


Gorman’s benders and lifted a high fly to deep 
left. The fielder made a nice running catch of it, 
but could not prevent Morris from scoring and 
putting the game at 5 to 4 ! 

Amesville was now wild with excitement and 
hats and pennants were waving madly. With but 
one out and a run to the good the game seemed 
won, for Jack Strobe was dancing around at third 
ready to come across on any excuse. It was Ped- 
die ’s turn at bat, and Peddie, with one hit already 
to his credit, would surely be good for another. 
He was. The youngster let two wide ones go by 
him and then swung. Crack went bat and ball 
and the latter sped out into left field, free of the 
outstretched hands of the fielders, and Jack 
romped home ! 

Six to four now, and still there was only one 
down ! Amesville sang and shouted and tramped 
and waved flags and acted like so many happy 
lunatics. Down at second Peddie sat on the bag 
and recovered his breath while Gorman and Beale 
met for a conclave between plate and mound and 
Joe, gripping his bat, strode resolutely to the 
plate. One hit had been the portion of ‘ ‘Lucky” 
Faulkner that day, and one hit seemed very little 
to him. And so, when the game went on, he 
watched and waited craftily until Gorman had 


322 FIRST BASE FAULKNER 

tried him on two wide ones and scored a strike. 
Then Joe found what he wanted and smashed a 
drive toward third baseman and streaked to first. 
In the ordinary course of events that should have 
been the safest sort of a hit and should have put 
Peddie across the rubber and left Joe on first. 
But, as it happened, the Petersburg shortstop, 
who had all the afternoon performed remarkably, 
sprinted across at full speed and when the ball 
eluded the frantic glove of the third baseman, got 
it on the run and, without pausing, slammed it to 
the plate ! It was a close decision, but the umpire 
waved Peddie out. That virtually ended the lucky 
seventh, for, although Joe went down to second 
and slid into the bag an instant ahead of the ball, 
Arthur Cummings proved an easy victim to Gor- 
man’s skill. 

So, with the score 6 to 4, Petersburg went des- 
perately to bat in the eighth while the shadows 
lengthened across the diamond and the crowd on 
the stand began to dribble down to the field. Joe 
made the first out in that inning, taking a sizzling 
drive from Catcher Beale’s bat. After that Smith 
threw out the centre fielder and Pitcher Gorman 
got a life on Smith’s fumble of his grounder and 
took second when Tom walked the head of the 
list. But it was all over a minute later when a 


FIRST BASE FAULKNER 323 

fine throw from Sam Craig caught the pitcher 
flat-footed off second. 

Sam led oft for Amesville in the last of the 
eighth with a scratch hit that proved too slpw for 
second baseman to field in time. Tom Pollock 
tried hard to get a hit, but finally fanned, and 
Smith was instructed to lay down a bunt and ad- 
vance Sam Craig. It was at this moment that 
Joe saw Jack leave his place on the bench and 
speak to Coach Talbot. What was said between 
them Joe couldn’t hear, nor did he try to, but 
after a minute of indecision Mr. Talbot nodded 
his head and Jack returned, looking, as Joe put 
it afterwards, like the cat who ate the canary. 

“You and Bat got it all settled?” asked Joe 
laughingly as his friend seated himself again. 

Jack rewarded Joe with a somewhat sheepish 
glance as he nodded. After a moment he said in 
a low voice : “It was about Frank. ’ ’ 

“What about him?” asked Joe, his gaze travel- 
ling to the end of the bench. 

“You’ll see,” replied Jack evasively, and that 
was all that he would say. 

Smith’s attempt to bunt resulted disastrously, 
for Gorman would have none of it and the first 
thing Smith knew he was in the hole. When, with 
two strikes and two balls against him, he tried to 


324 


FIRST BASE FAULKNER 


hit it out, the hall slammed itself into Gorman’s 
glove and Smith was gone. Sid Morris had better 
success, for he got a hit down the alley between 
second and shortstop and Sam Craig advanced a 
base. Then Joe learned the meaning of Jack’s 
converse with the coach. Mr. Talbot recalled 
Jack, who had been half-heartedly awaiting his 
turn, and summoned Frank Foley. 

‘ ‘ Foley! Take a whack at it. Don’t try to 
bend your bat. Just put one through. ’ ’ 

Foley, surprised, leaped from the bench. “Me, 
sir?” he asked. 

“Yes, hurry up!” 

Foley hurried. Half a dozen eager hands 
stretched out as many bats toward him and, seiz- 
ing a couple, he hurried to the plate, swinging 
them eagerly. Foley’s friends in the stand ap- 
plauded warmly and Joe viewed Jack quizzically 
as the latter sank back into his place on the bench. 

“Jack,” began Joe in a whisper. 

Jack turned on him rudely. “Oh, dry up !” he 
muttered. 

Joe chuckled. “You’re a fine hater, aren’t 
you?” he asked. 

“That’s got nothing to do with it,” declared 
Jack, reddening. “Frank’s worked hard all 
spring and — and he deserved to get in.” 


FIRST BASE FAULKNER 


325 


“Of course, he did, and I'm glad, Jack, mighty 
glad. And it was decent of you, you old poser, to 
let him " 

“Dry up and watch the game," begged Jack. 
“I hope he does something!" 

And Frank, who seldom came through with a 
hit, today did the unexpected. There was a strike 
and two balls against him when he took his swing, 
a very healthy swing, too, and off went the ball 
straight down the first base line, and in raced 
Sam, while Amesville cheered another tally. But 
that was all, for Hale flied out to shortstop the 
next minute and the inning ended. 

“All over but the cheering!" cried Jack as the 
bench emptied. ‘ ‘ Hold them safe, fellows ! Don 't 
let anything slip, J oey ! I 'll be watching you ! ' ' 

Frank Foley trotted into left field and Loomis 
to right. But those were the only substitutions 
made. Williams and Moran started to warm up 
by Coach Talbot's orders, but no one looked to 
see either of them get in. The audience was 
already starting hesitantly toward the gates 
when Petersburg 's right fielder went to bat. Five 
minutes later many of them were scurrying back 
again, for, after fouling himself into the hole, the 
batsman waited and walked ! Petersburg cheered 
hopefully then and when the next man up, who 


326 


FIRST BASE FAULKNER 


happened to be that redoubtable shortstop, 
smashed a two-bagger over Peddie’s head, ad- 
vancing the first runner to third, she cheered 
quite madly! 

It was Amesville’s turn to show concern and 
Toby Williams began to put on speed where he 
was pitching to Jack Speyer. But Coach Talbot, 
contenting himself with low-toned instructions, 
never so much as looked at Toby. The opponent’s 
left fielder was replaced by a pinch-hitter and 
the pinch-hitter won fame and glory. He picked 
off Tom’s second offering and sent it well into 
short centre, scoring the men from third and 
second, putting himself on first and then going 
on to the next bag when the throw was made to 
the plate in the attempt to head off the shortstop ! 

Seven to six! And only one out! No wonder 
Captain Craig walked down to the box, amidst 
the joyful hoots of the visitors, and held a con- 
sultation there with Tom. No wonder that at last 
Mr. Talbot’s glance wandered along to where 
Williams and Moran were pitching. Scattered 
cries of 4 ‘ Take him out ! ’ ’ arose from the uneasy 
throng back of the first base line. But the de- 
mand was not general and, in any case, Coach 
Talbot had other intentions. 

Captain Lyman came to bat, a little pale, very 


FIRST BASE FAULKNER 327 

determined, and— struck out! It was Amesville’s 
turn to jeer and rejoice and she did so, relieving 
over-strained nerves. Tom faced the Petersburg 
second baseman calmly and smilingly, got his sig- 
nals from Sam, wound up and pitched. 

“Shtrike!” called the umpire, and the Brown- 
and-Blue partisans shouted stridently. Then 
came a ball, a low one and wide, followed by a 
second strike across the centre of the plate and 
shoulder high. Another ball then, for Tom could 
afford to waste one, and then 

Well, then there was a crack of wood against 
leather and the batsman was speeding to base! 
The ball went to Tom, but it was hounding crazily 
and he could only knock it down in his first stab 
for it. When he had it in hand he turned toward 
third to head off the runner from second and saw 
that that youth had changed his mind and was on 
his way back to the middle sack. Wheeling 
quickly, Tom pegged to Joe at first. But by that 
time the Petersburg runner had rounded first 
and was dashing to second. Joe caught and 
turned to throw to Smith when he caught sight 
of the further runner doubling back. Sensing a 
mix-up, Joe held the ball and raced for second 
base. The two runners reached that bag simul- 
taneously. The expected happened. Plump into 


328 


FIRST BASE FAULKNER 


each other they went with a bang that doubtless 
made them see stars as they each rolled apart, 
clear of the base! Joe threw himself between 
them, his hand with the ball shot to the left and 
then to the right, and the game was over ! 

Two minutes later, when J oe, with most of the 
others who had been caught* on the field, was being 
borne crazily about through the laughing, jubilant 
throng, swaying and pitching above a sea of faces, 
his bearers brought him for a moment abreast of 
Frank Foley and their glances met. 

‘ ‘ That was great, Faulkner !” called Frank 
warmly. 

But J oe, smiling happily, shook his head. 

‘ 4 Only luck,” he answered. 


THE END 


70 5 

















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